Thomas Aquinas and Radical Aristotelianism

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THOMAS AQUINAS
AND RADICAL ARISTOTELIANISM
THOMAS AQUINAS
AND RADICAL ARISTOTELIAN ISM
by
Fernand Van Steenberghen
TrtMf Ur.h
•**"L
THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS

WASHINGTON, D.C.
£nu^ .T5HS'7P'
Copyright © 1980
The Catholic University of America Press
All rights reserved
Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Steenberghen, Fernand van, 1904-

Thomas Aquinas and radical Aristotelianism.
Revisions of three lectures given at Catholic Uni¬

versity of America in March 1978.
Includes bibliographical references.
CONTENTS: Introduction.—The First lecture,
Eternity of the world.—The second lecture, Mon¬
opsychism.—The third lecture, Rationalism. 1.
Thomas Aquinas, Saint, 1225?-1274—Addresses,
essays, lectures. 2. Aristoteles—Influence—Ad¬
dresses, essays, lectures. I. Title.
B765.T54S72 189F4 80-10137
ISBN 0-8132-0552-2
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction vii
The First Lecture

Eternity of the World 1
The Second Lecture

Monopsychism 29
The Third Lecture

Rationalism 75
Index of Names 11 1
Index of Topics 113
3488 e
INTRODUCTION
One of the more fascinating chapters in the history
of medieval philosophical thought centers around the
intellectual crisis that occurred at the University of
Paris in the 1260’s and 1270’s. Sometimes referred
to as “Latin Averroism” and sometimes as “Heter¬
odox” or “Radical” Aristotelianism, a philosophical
movement then developed in the Faculty of Arts at
the University which was destined to have widespread
repercussions on the intellectual life of the period,
and which would soon encounter ecclesiastical cen¬
sure by Stephen Tempier, the Bishop of Paris, in
1270 and especially in his sweeping Condemnation
of 1277. Of particular interest to historians of phi¬
losophy are the positions developed by leading mem¬
bers of this radical group, especially by Siger of Bra¬
bant and Boetius of Dacia. Equally interesting are the
philosophical and doctrinal responses to the same by
other leading thinkers of that time, most notably, St.
Bonaventure and St. Thomas Aquinas.
Great strides have been made by recent and con¬
temporary scholars concerning our knowledge ol the
teachings and the careers of these radical Masters
from the Arts Faculty. Essential to this progress has
been the discovery, identification, and edition of
many works authored by Siger, Boetius and other
Masters in Arts from that period. Long recognized
as an authority on thirteenth-century philosophy in
general and on Siger of Brabant and I homas Aqui¬
nas in particular, Canon Fernand Van Steenberghen
of the University of Louvain has recently drawn upon
decades of personal research in this area as well as
Vll
the latest findings by others throughout the scholarly

world in order to produce in 1966 a truly classical
general interpretation of that time, La philosophic an
X///e siecle.
Among the recent advances in our knowledge of
Siger of Brabant has been the discovery and subse¬
quent edition of his previously unknown Commen¬
tary on the Liber de causis ( A. Marlasca, Les Qiiaestiones
super Librum de. causis de Siger de Brabant, Louvain-
Paris, 1974). Recovery of this work has been espe¬
cially satisfying to Professor Van Steenberghen be¬
cause it confirms in striking fashion his long debated
contention that there was a shift in the later Siger’s
thinking in a more orthodox direction. Critical edi¬
tions of this treatise as well as of most of Siger’s im¬
portant works have now appeared in the important
series of studies and texts founded by Professor Van
Steenberghen himself, Philosophes medievaux. Conse¬
quently, in 1977 he completed and published what
must now be recognized as the most definitive work
yet written on Siger, his Maitre Siger de Brabant. In
March, 1978, The Catholic University of America in¬
vited Professor Van Steenberghen to its campus in
order to confer upon him an honorary doctorate.
During his stay here, he delivered three lectures
which build upon and summarize much of the most
recent research concerning the encounter between
Thomas Aquinas and the radical Aristotelians, espe¬
cially Siger of Brabant. Faculty members from the
University’s School of Philosophy then asked him to
expand upon these lectures and to prepare them for
publication. This he has now done.
As he himself indicates, he has chosen the path of
viii
Introduction
doctrinal history in order to develop his theme, Aqui¬

nas’ reaction to radical or heterodox Aristotelianism.
In each of his Lectures he has singled out one central
and contested point: in the first, the problem of the
world’s eternity; in the second, monopsychism, or
the view according to which there is only one intellect
for all mankind; and in the third, the issue of ration¬
alism.
Himself always the philosopher as well as the his¬
torian of philosophy, Professor Van Steenberghen
has complemented his historical presentations of
these themes with interesting and challenging critical
comments. Thus while his general sympathy for the
philosophical thought of Thomas Aquinas is widely
known, this does not prevent him from going his own
way whenever his personal philosophical judgments
dif fer from those of the great Dominican Master. The
reader will not be too surprised, therefore, to find
Professor Van Steenberghen siding with Bonaven-
ture rather than with Thomas in the controversy con¬
cerning the possibility of demonstrating that the
world began to be. And if his contention that pre-
Thomistic Christian anthropology was spiritualistic
and dualistic is not unexpected, his complaint that
the language in which Aquinas expresses his own an¬
thropology is also dualistic may startle some readers.
While his ref usal to credit any of the Radical Aris¬
totelians of the 1260’s and 1270’s with the notorious
“double-truth” theory is in accord with the views
shared by most serious historians of medieval philos¬
ophy today, his detailed examination of this oft-mis¬
applied and misunderstood expression should prove
rewarding to every reader.
IX
It is our hope, therefore, that this small volume will

he of value to historians of medieval philosophy, to
medieval intellectual historians, and to all others who
are interested in an up-to-date discussion of these
topics by one of the world’s foremost authorities on
thirteenth-century philosophical thought.
In order not to make the following unduly cum¬
bersome for a more general reading public, Professor
Van Steenberghen has used relatively few footnotes.
At the same time, he has provided all necessary ref¬
erences for those who may wish to examine in greater
detail the matters discussed therein.
Original versions of Lectures I, II, and III were
translated respectively by Professors Dominic J.
O’Meara (The Catholic University of America), John
F. Wippel (The Catholic University of America) and
Stephen F. Brown (then of the University of the
South, and now of Boston College). The additions to
the three lectures were translated by Wippel, who is
also responsible for editing and preparing the com¬
pleted text for publication. Special thanks are due to
Jude P. Dougherty, Dean of the University’s School
of Philosophy, for having arranged, with the full co¬
operation of the University’s Administration, for
Professor Van Steenberghen’s visit to Washington,
and for providing for the publication of this volume
by The Catholic University of America Press.
John F. Wippel
x
THE FIRST LECTURE
ETERNITY OF THE WORLD

In these three lectures 1 have been asked to take
as my topic the attitude adopted by Thomas Aquinas
with respect to radical or heterodox Aristotelianism.
I gladly accepted this suggestion, since in my opinion
this stage in the history of doctrine, although hap¬
pening seven centuries ago, is still of great interest to
us and can teach us much concerning the solution to
some of our contemporary problems.
Let me first remind you quickly of the historical
circumstances which provoked the. conflict between
Thomas Aquinas and the proponents of radical Ar¬
istotelianism. Christianity was shaken in the thir¬
teenth century by an event of great cultural impor¬
tance—the massive importation of non-Christian
philosophical literature which followed upon the
enormous effort, intensified during the twelfth cen¬
tury, to translate Arabic and Creek texts into Latin.
For the first time the Christian world discovered the
impressive work of Aristotle, who then represented
the summit of scientific knowledge, and many were
conquered by the vision of the world proposed by the
Philosopher. Despite the resistance of certain eccle¬
siastical authorities and of many theologians, who
were aware of the danger which it constituted for
Christian thought, Aristotelianism rapidly conquered
the newly-founded universities of Western Europe.
In Paris, a new statute of the Faculty of Arts, dated
Fernand Va n Steenberghen
March 19, 1255, placed all of the known writings of

Aristotle on the lecture program, and this Faculty,
which traditionally taught the seven liberal arts, be¬
came in practice a school of Aristotelian philosophy.
Ten years later, the consequences of this innovation
were felt. A group of young Masters, led by Siger of
Brabant, taught the philosophy of Aristotle without
concerning themselves with the points of opposition
which exist between this philosophy and Christian
doctrine. Radical or heterodox Aristotelianism was
born.1
We still know very little about the beginnings of
this school, since we have found few traces of its
teaching before 1270. But we know that it existed and
was already having a disturbing influence on the Fac¬
ulty of Arts. This is what emerges, first from the pro¬
test of Saint Bonaventure in his Lenten sermons in
1267 and 1268, then from the intervention of Saint
Thomas at the beginning of 1270 with the publication
of his De imitate intellectus, and finally, from the first
condemnation of this school by the Bishop of Paris,
Stephen Tempier, on December 10,‘ 1270.
What was Thomas Aquinas’ role in the reaction
against radical Aristotelianism? One may answer this
question in two different ways: either by dealing with
the concrete details of the controversy which broke
out in 1270, or by taking a broader view of the doc¬
trinal conflict between heterodox Aristotelianism and
the work of Saint Thomas considered as a whole.
1 On the introduction of Aristotelianism in the thirteenth century

and on the rise of heterodox Aristotelianism see F. Van Steenberghen,
Aristotle in the West, 2nd ed. (Louvain, 1970), pp. 59-208.
2
Eternity of the World
It is not possible for us to choose the first approach

in a series of three public lectures, and for the fol¬
lowing reasons. Thomas Aquinas returned to Paris in
January, 1269. He first observed what the situation
was in the schools and was informed about the teach¬
ing then being presented in the Faculty of Arts. It
was only in the beginning of 1270 that he openly
entered into conflict with Siger and his group. He
remained in Paris until the spring of 1272, founded
a Dominican studium in Naples in the fall of that
same year, and taught there until December 6, 1273.
If one wishes to study the concrete details of the con¬
troversy between Thomas Aquinas and Siger’s group,
one must examine, one by one, the works written by
Thomas between 1270 and 1273, and one must try
to find in these the traces of his reaction to radical
Aristotelianism. Such long and laborious text analysis
does not lend itself to oral exposition and would, in
any case, require a large number of lectures. More¬
over, we would have to discuss the fanciful views ad¬
vanced by the young French Dominican, Father
Edouard-Henri Weber, in his work of 1970, La con-
troverse de 1270 a I'Universite de Paris et son retentisse-
ment sur la pensee de saint Thomas d’Aquin.
We must, therefore, choose the second approach,
that of doctrinal history, although this choice will not
prevent us from citing, when possible, from the writ¬
ings of Siger and Thomas which pertain to the con¬
troversies of 1266-1273. Long before his return to
Paris in 1269, Thomas Aquinas had identified what
were, in his opinion, the most serious mistakes on the
part of the pagan philosophies and the main points
of opposition between these philosophies and Chris-
3
tian teaching. From the beginning of his career, in

his Scriptum super sententiis, he opposed these posi¬
tions. His thought did not evolve much subsequently
on these points, with certain exceptions which we
shall consider later, and these are the same mistaken
positions which he found in the teaching of the het¬
erodox Masters in 1269. I propose, then, to examine
his attitude with respect to the three most important
of these defended by radical Aristotelianism, namely,
eternity of the world, monopsychism, and rational¬
ism.
In this First Lecture I shall concentrate on the prob¬

lem of eternity of the world in the past. This lecture
will have three parts. I shall first recall the position
of non-Christian philosophy on this subject and illus¬
trate it by the teaching of Siger of Brabant at the
beginning of his career. I shall then describe Saint
Thomas’ reaction. Finally, I shall present some crit¬
ical observations.
I
The first part can be dealt with rapidly, since it
does no more than summarize some well-known facts.
The problem as to the origin of the universe was
already recognized at the beginnings of philosophy
in Greece. Aristotle reports in Bk I of the Physics that
the early philosophers (those now known as “Preso-
cratics”) assumed as evident that “nothing can come
from what is not.” From this they concluded that,
since the world exists, it has always existed. To imag¬
ine that it began to be at a certain moment would be
4
to imply that one day and on its own it emerged from

what is not, which is absurd. In order to avoid affirm¬
ing the eternity of the world in the past, these phi¬
losophers would have to have discovered the notion
of a creative cause capable of giving existence to a
world which could not exist without it. But these first
Greek thinkers did not go beyond the level of a fairly
rudimentary materialism and had no metaphysics of
causality.
The thesis of the eternity of the world was taken
up, with varying nuances, by all of Greek philosophy.
But one may distinguish two periods in the history of
Greek thought. Before Neoplatonism, it was thought
that the material world had always existed because it
was uncaused. Existing of itself, it exists necessarily
and eternally. The work of Plotinus marks a crucial
turning-point in the history of Greek thought. There
the notion of metaphysical causality is introduced for
the first time, in the form of the well-known doctrine
of emanation. The One is really the cause of the being
of all that emanates from it. But emanation is re¬
garded as an eternal process, and hence the thesis of
the eternity of the world is retained. This time the
world is thought to be eternal because it is the nec¬
essary emanation from an eternal and unchanging
cause.
The two greatest thinkers of Islam, Avicenna and
Averroes, defended in somewhat different ways this
view of the eternal world as the el feet of an eternal
cause. Only the Jewish thinkers, Avicebron and
Moses Maimonides, rejected the eternalist position.
The Masters of the Faculty of Arts at Paris noted,
therefore, this unanimous agreement on the part of
Greek and Arab philosophers concerning the origin

of the universe. Hence it is not surprising that these
Masters, impressed as they were by the consensus of
earlier thinkers, were tempted to adopt this position
themselves. This is, in fact, what one observes. At the
beginning of his teaching career, before 1270, Siger
of Brabant accepts without hesitation the eternity of
the world.
In his Quaestio utrurn haec sit vera: “homo est animal",
nullo homine existente, Siger examines a difficulty which
was classical in the Faculty of Arts (as is clear from
various contemporary documents). This dif ficulty has
to do with determining whether universal proposi¬
tions treating of an abstract subject such as “man”
are true independently of the existence of any con¬
crete subject in which that abstract nature is realized.
For example, under the hypothesis that no man exists
(for instance, before man’s appearance on earth),
would the proposition “man is an animal” be true?
Siger begins by presenting and rejecting five at¬
tempted solutions, the fourth of which he attributes
to Albert of Cologne (Albert the Great). Then he of¬
fers his own solution. The hypothesis under consid¬
eration is itself absurd, since the human species, like
every other species, is by its nature eternal. Therefore
it is impossible for there ever to have been a moment
when man did not exist.2 As one can readily see, here
Siger defends the eternity of the world without mak¬
ing any reference to the opposed teaching of the
Church. This is why B. Bazan dates this Quaestio be-
2 See B. Bazan, Siger de Brabant. Ecrits de logique, de morale et de physique,

Philosophies medievaux XIV (Louvain-Paris, 1974), pp. 53-59.
6
fore the Condemnation of 1270, since after that date

Siger always takes into account the demands of Chris¬
tian belief.
Siger’s Quaestiones in tertium de amnia very probably
date from 1269. They are certainly prior to the Con¬
demnation of 1270.3 These Quaestiones were not pub¬
lished in their entirety until 1972. Here Siger pro¬
poses a view of the human soul which is clearly
inspired by Averroes and which is seriously at odds
with Christian faith. But the heterodox character of
his position does not seem to trouble him. So true is
this, in fact, that one may wonder whether or not he
is fully aware of it. As regards the origin of the in¬
tellect, which is unique for all mankind^ Siger declares
that according to Aristotle the human intellect is eter¬
nal because it is an immediate effect of the First
Cause, which is itself eternal. Here he attributes to
Aristotle the doctrine of creation, as Thomas Aquinas
also does. According to Aristotle, as interpreted by
Siger, to admit that the intellect was created in time
would be tcT imply some change on the part of the
divine will. This is why the Philosopher defended
eternity of the world. However, adds Siger, Aristo¬
tle’s position is not compelling, since the divine will
remains mysterious for us, and who can understand
it? God could have willed from eternity that the in¬
tellect would begin to be in the course of time, as
Augustine maintained, for whom the human soul is
created at the moment it is united to a body. But in
the final analysis, Aristotle’s position is more pro-
3 See F. Van Steenberghen, Maitre Sign de Brabant, Philosophes me-

dievaux XXI (Louvain-Paris, 1977), pp. 51-52.
7
bable than Augustine’s since it corresponds better

with the nature of the intellect, a separate substance.
But be that as it may, one must choose here between
Aristotle and Augustine, either one or the other.4
As the reader will note, in this discussion of the
origin of the intellect Siger does not oppose the con¬
clusions of philosophy to Christian teaching, but
rather Aristotle’s position to that of Augustine.
These lectures on Bk III of the De anima do not be¬
tray any uneasiness of a religious nature. The young
Master is taken with Aristotle and operates as a pure
rationalist. He is unaware, or pretends to be unaware,
of the dictates of Christian dogma. One may con¬
clude, then, that it cannot be doubted that at the be¬
ginning of his teaching career Siger of Brabant ac¬
cepted as his own the doctrine of eternity of the
world.
One must recognize indeed that, at first sight, this
vision of the world seems to be very plausible and
even inevitable. If the existence of the world depends
on an eternal creative act, how and why would the
product of this act not be eternal? Besides, how could
God create the world “in time,” when time could
not exist “before” the world or without the world?
If God, eternal and unchanging, decides to create the
world, what could prevent this world from being coe¬
ternal with its cause?
Now the Bible stands in opposition to this view of
an eternal world. Already in the first verse of Genesis
one reads: “In the beginning God created heaven and
4 See B. Bazan, Siger de Brabant. Quaestiones in tertium de anima. De

anima intellectiva. De aeternitate mundi. Philosophies medievaux XIII
(Louvain-Paris, 1972), pp. 4-8.
8
earth.” This doctrine reappears in other scriptural

texts and in commentators on scripture and teachers
of the Law. And, later, Christian exegetes place this
“beginning” back some thousands of years in the
past.
Conflict was inevitable between this biblical teach¬
ing and pagan thought. The two conceptions had al¬
ready clashed in the Patristic period and in the world
of Islam, but the controversy took on new life in the
thirteenth century in the Christian West.
II
Let us see now what Thomas Aquinas thought con¬
cerning this debate. He knew the pagan teaching of
eternity of the world from the time of his studies in
Cologne, at the school of Albert the Great, perhaps
even from the time of his studies at the Faculty of
Arts at the University of Naples prior to his entrance
into the Dominican Order. And he adopted from the
beginning of his teaching career an attitude which he
maintained until his death. This attitude is charac¬
terized by two theses: (1) Revelation teaches us that
the created world began to be; the world therefore
is not eternal and the pagan position is false; (2) One
cannot demonstrate by reason either the eternity of
the world or that it began to be.
Let us note first that this was not a traditional po¬
sition. Catholic theologians taught that the beginning
of the world was not only a truth of faith, but also a
rational certitude, and hence, that the eternalist po¬
sition could be refuted philosophically. Recently
Brother Bonaventure, Regent-Master of the Francis-
<)
cans, had defended this in the Faculty of Theology

at Paris.
Thomas Aquinas treated the problem of eternity
of the world on many occasions. Here we shall pause
to consider three points in his career: at the begin¬
ning in his Scriptum super Sententiis (1253-1257); then
in the Prirna Pars of the Summa theologiae (1266-1268);
and finally in his opusculum De aeternitate mundi
(probably ca. 1270).
Thomas began to comment on the Sentences in
1253, only three years after his Franciscan colleague,
Bonaventure. The latter had maintained that the very
idea of an eternal world created ex nihilo is self-con¬
tradictory and that no philosopher could have taught
such an absurdity.5 In Bk II of his own Commentary
Thomas asserts, on the contrary, that the thesis of
eternal creation (ex nihilo, since for him creation is
defined as productio ex nihilo) is not contradictory and
that we are unable to demonstrate by reason that the
world began to be. Only faith in divine revelation
teaches us that, in fact, the world had a temporal
beginning.6
Here we shall not analyze in detail the long article
which treats of this question. Thomas offers fourteen
arguments in favor of eternity of the world and nine
against it. In the corpus of the article he presents his
agnostic position. One can demonstrate by reason
neither the eternity nor the temporal beginning of
the world. He then rejects in succession the argu-
5 See S. Bonaventura, Commentaria in quatuor libros Sententiarum, II,

dist. I, q. 2 (Opera omnia, t. II, p. 22).
6 See S. Thomas de Aquino, Scriptum super libros Sententiarum, II, dist.
1, q. 1, art. 5 (ed. P. Mandonnet, [Paris, 1929], t. II, pp. 27-41).
10
ments for and the arguments against the world’s

eternity. His criticisms of arguments in support of
eternity of the world are always to the point. As re¬
gards his criticisms of arguments against its eternity,
one must, in my opinion, distinguish. In many cases
his criticism is valid. Thus there is no incompatibility
between “being created” and “existing from etern¬
ity.” But when Thomas considers arguments based
on the fact that, under the hypothesis of an eternal
world, an infinite series of events will have been re¬
alized and that an infinite series cannot be realized,
his replies are strangely confused and, in my opinion,
inadequate. But we shall return to this later.
In the Prima Pars of the Summa theologiae one finds
this same agnostic position, and it accounts for
Thomas’ division of the subject into two articles. The
first shows that the arguments in favor of eternity of
the world are without value, and the second does the
same for the arguments against its eternity. In the
first article Thomas maintains that for Aristotle the
arguments which he proposed to establish the world’s
eternity were not strictly demonstrative. Their pur¬
pose was rather to refute some indefensible views of
certain Presocratic philosophers. In fact both the
existence and the duration of the universe depend
upon the divine will, which enjoys supreme freedom.
In the second article Thomas advances two argu¬
ments in order to justify his agnostic position. In the
first he draws upon the Aristotelian theory of dem¬
onstration. The principle of demonstration is the es¬
sence, starting from which one deduces the proper¬
ties of that essence. But essences abstract from space
and time. Therefore, one cannot demonstrate that
they have not always existed. In the second he appeals

once more to divine freedom, which surpasses human
understanding, in order to justify his agnostic atti¬
tude. In his reply to the objections he again encoun¬
ters arguments based on the impossibility of infinite
series, but dismisses them even more summarily than
he had in his Scriptum super Sententiis.7
Let us now turn to Thomas’ De aeternitate rnundi.
Father Mandonnet connects this treatise with the
“Parisian Averroistic controversies,” and Father
Perrier has compounded his illustrious confrere’s
mistake by restating it in more precise terms.8 In
truth, it is enough for one to read this treatise to
realize that it is not directed against the Averroists
but rather against the conservative theologians who
claimed that they could demonstrate by reason that
the world had a beginning.9 Certain manuscripts give
to this opusculum a title which corresponds better to
its content: On the Possibility of the Eternity of the World
{De possibilitate aeternitatis rnundi).10 Thomas here de¬
fends the view that a world eternally created by God
does not entail any evident contradiction.
The problem is clearly formulated from the open¬
ing lines: “Granted then, in accord with Catholic be¬
lief, that the world has not always existed, but that
7 See Summa theologiae, Ia, q. 46, art. 1 and 2.

8 See J. Perrier, S. Thomae Aquinatis opuscula omnia. . T. 1. Opuscula
philosophica (Paris, 1949), p. 52: “Valde probabile est illud pertinere ad
disputationes contra Averroistas Parisienses.”
8 For the text see the Perrier edition, pp. 53-61; and more recently
the critical edition published by the Leonine Commission in Opera om¬
nia, v. 43 (1976), pp. 85-89.
10 See M. Grabmann, Die Werke des hi. Thomas von Aquin, 3rd ed.,
Beitrdge zur Geschichte der Philosophie and Theologie des Mittelalters 22, 1/
2 (Munster, 1949), p. 341.
there was a beginning to its duration, the question

has been raised as to whether it could have always ex¬
isted.” After a fairly long exposition intended to
render precise the meaning of this question, Thomas
concludes: “T herefore, the entire question consists in
asking whether to be created by God according to its
entire substance and to have no temporal beginning
are contradictory or not.” The contradiction could
arise, he continues, from one of the two following
principles (or from the two taken together): “an ef¬
ficient cause must be prior to its effect;” and “it is
necessary for a creature’s nonbeing to precede its
being in time, because the creature is produced from
nothing (ex nihilo)." But neither of these two prin¬
ciples necessarily holds. As to the first, creative caus¬
ality does not imply any kind of movement and is not,
therefore, subject to time. One may liken it to instan¬
taneous changes such as the illumination of a medium
by light, wherein the cause and the effect are simul¬
taneous with one another. As to the second principle,
the expression “made from nothing” (factum ex ni¬
hilo) really means “not made from something” (fac¬
tum non ex aliquo). It simply signifies that a creature
is not produced from a pre-existing subject, as when
we say of someone that he is worried about “noth¬
ing” when- he is worried without any reason. 1 he
expression “from nothing” (ex nihilo) does not,
therefore, signify “after nothing” (post nihilum), un¬
less one gives to the word “after” (post) the meaning
of priority of nature rather than temporal priority.
In fact, of its nature a created being is nothing. It
receives being from its cause and would not be if its
cause did not give being to it.
There is, therefore, no repugnance between being

created and always existing. If there were any such
repugnance between these two notions, it would be
surprising that Augustine overlooked this when he
was contending against the eternity of the world by
numerous arguments. It would be equally surprising
that the most eminent philosophers failed to see this
repugnance. And Thomas concludes ironically:
“Therefore those who see this contradiction with such
subtlety are alone worthy to be called men and with
them is wisdom born.”
When authorities such as John Damascene or
Hugh of Saint-Victor say that nothing can be coeter¬
nal with God, one must understand them in the light
of Boethius. God alone is immutable and, therefore,
the eternity of the world would be quite different
from divine eternity. This interpretation is fully con¬
firmed by different passages in St. Augustine.
Thomas ends by recalling the well-known objection
based on an infinite number of human souls. If the
world were eternal (and, with it, all species), an infi¬
nite multitude of men would have existed and their
immortal souls would subsist as an infinite multitude.
This is a more difficult objection, concedes Aquinas,
but it is not decisive. For God could have created an
eternal world without the human species, or he could
have created the human race at a certain moment of
that temporal duration which would characterize the
course of the eternal world. Moreover, no one has
yet demonstrated that God could not create a world
in which an infinite multitude of human souls would
exist.
His treatise ends with this statement: “At this time
14
I forbear to reply to other objections, either because

I have already done so elsewhere, or because some
of them are so weak that by their very weakness they
seem to reinforce the probability of the opposite po¬
sition.”
Why did Thomas Aquinas adopt this “agnostic”
attitude? He indicates this clearly on many occasions.
He was struck by the weakness of the arguments of¬
fered in favor of the beginning of the world and fears
that reasonings so poor, presented to establish an ar¬
ticle of faith, would invite mockery from nonbeliev¬
ers. Already in Bk II of the Sentences he writes: “all
these arguments have been refuted by the philoso¬
phers; hence to wish to ground oneself on such rea¬
sons to prove, against the philosophers, that the
world began to be, would result more in contempt
for the faith than in confirmation of it.” The same
idea reappears twelve years later in the Surnma theo¬
logian: “That the world began is an object of faith and
not of science. It is useful to see this, for fear that
someone, attempting to demonstrate what is an object
of faith, might propose non-cogent arguments, giving
to nonbelievers cause for mockery, since they would
think that we believed for such futile reasons.”
However, behind this so clearly expressed reason
appears another less explicitly formulated. Thomas
Aquinas was himself also impressed by the unani¬
mous agreement of the great Greek and Arabic
thinkers. One can gather this already from the text
of the Sentences that I have just quoted. “Against the
philosophers,” he says. It is the unanimous convic¬
tion of the philosophers that one contradicts in af¬
firming that the world had a beginning. And we have
seen that in his De aeternitate mundi, Thomas could

not hide his impatience with the pretentious attitude
of those theologians who saw an evident contradiction
between the fact of being created and the fact of ex¬
isting eternally.
Were the arguments of the theologians really as
weak as Saint Thomas maintains? These arguments
can be grouped into two principal types. We find both
types in Saint Bonaventure, who was a colleague of
St. Thomas in the Faculty of Theology at Paris from
1252 until 1257. The first kind of argument is based
on the notion of creation. To be created “from noth¬
ing” (ex nihilo) and to exist eternally would be two
contradictory propositions. This type of argument
rests on a confusion between “from nothing” (ex
nihilo) and “after nothing” (post nihilum). Thomas is
right in rejecting it as ineffectual. But another type
of argument is based on the fact that an eternal world
would imply an infinite series of completed events.
But the notion of an infinite realized series is unten¬
able, since it involves many contradictions.
At first glance, it seems Thomas would welcome
this type of argument, for, in a well-known article in
the beginning of the Summa theologiae (Prima Pars, q.
7, art. 4), he rejects as impossible every infinite mul¬
titude in act. Only an infinite in potency is possible, and
by “infinite in potency” he here means a finite series
which increases indefinitely. He cites as examples the
indefinite division of a continuum and the indefinite
addition of units to a number. According to this ter¬
minology, the infinite series of past events implied by
the hypothesis of an eternal world is clearly an infi¬
nite in act, not an infinite in potency. Indeed, it is a
16
realized and achieved infinite, already produced in

reality. It would have been enough for Saint Thomas
to keep to this clear doctrine in order to condemn
the eternalist thesis since, as all agreed, that implies
a real succession of an infinite series of past events.
According to the teaching of Question 7, such an in¬
finite series would not be “numerable” at all, not
even for God’s thought. It would be foreign to every
“species” of multitude. Such a series could not be
an object of the Creator’s will.
However, when Thomas takes up the problem of
the origin of the world in Question 46 of the Prirna
Pars, he seems to forget the thesis he had so clearly
presented in Question 7. Now he maintains, being
directly inspired by Aristotle’s Physics, that a world
eternal as to its past would not imply an infinite in
act, but only an infinite in potency. Why? Because
past events were successive and therefore were never
realized all together (simul). As we see, the notions of
the infinite are now modified. The infinite in act be¬
comes the actual or simultaneous infinite. The infi¬
nite in potency is no longer the finite which increases
indefinitely, but the infinite in succession.
Understandably, opponents of the eternalist thesis
viewed this shift in the meaning of the infinite in
potency as nothing but an evasion. I hey refused to
admit that the infinite in succession may be consid¬
ered as an infinite in potency. By means of an irre¬
futable ad hominem argument, they showed that an
infinite in succession, without being an “actual” or
“simultaneous” infinite, is truly an infinite in act.
Indeed, for Aristotle all species are eternal. I here
was never a “first man,” and an infinity of individ-
17
uals have succeeded one another in the past. But hu¬

man souls are immortal. Consequently, in the case of
the human species an infinite in succession becomes
a simultaneous infinite. An infinity in act of human
souls would exist today, and what is even more ab¬
surd, this infinite series would increase every day with
the birth of new individuals!
Saint Thomas encounters this objection several
times during his career and recognizes its difficulty.
Yet he always tries to escape from it, as we have seen
above in his De aeternitate mundi. There he seems to
forget completely his demonstration in Question 7 of
the Prima Pars of the Suvuna.
Ill
In the third part of this Lecture I should like to
present to you some of my personal reflections and
some critical comments. What should one make of
this debate concerning the origins of the universe?
How should one evaluate Thomas Aquinas’ contri¬
bution to this controversy? We may first note that
Thomas knows well the position of the major Greek
and Arabic philosophers, and especially that of Ar¬
istotle. He rejects this position in the name of Chris¬
tian faith. Secondly, we must remember that he al¬
ways maintained that one cannot demonstrate by
reason that the world began to be.
But on closer inspection, one notices strange vari¬
ations in his statements concerning the infinite.
Sometimes he rejects every infinite in act, whether
simultaneous or in succession. Sometimes he rejects
only the infinite in simultaneous act. And sometimes
18
he admits the possibility of an infinite simultaneously

in act. Rarely, indeed, does one find such variations
in the work of the Angelic Doctor, whose thought is
usually so firm and consistent.
As for us, we must choose between these three
irreconcilable positions. For my part, I do not hesitate
to follow the Thomas of the Summa theologiae, Prima
Pars, q. 7, where he expresses himself freely without
being troubled by the problem of the eternity of the
world.
It may be useful for me to tell you something about
the historical background for my choice. In my youth
I had as Professor of Cosmology the venerable Canon
Desire Nys, one of the first collaborators of Cardinal
Mercier, founder of the Thomistic school of Louvain.
Nys was convinced of the possibility of an eternal
world and of infinite series in space and in time. But
his enthusiastic explanations always seemed to me
playing with words. He was so good at juggling with
infinite series that he caused considerable mirth
among his students. The following year, another pro¬
fessor, Canon Leon Becker, Professor of Theodicy,
rejected with equal conviction every kind of quanti¬
tative infinity, and rested his case on Question 7 of
the Prima Pars, where Thomas explains clearly why
every real multitude must be finite. Since that time
I have been convinced that this is correct and there¬
fore that eternity of the world in the past is absolutely
impossible. This I shall now attempt to explain to
you.
Let us first recall Thomas’ argumentation in Ques¬
tion 7.of the Prima Pars. He offers two arguments to
show why every infinite multitude in act is impossible.
19
First of all, any existing multitude must be included

in a determinate species, for, as Aristotle has shown,
it is not possible to be in a genus without also being
in a species. But the species of multitude correspond
to the species of number. And no species of number
is infinite since every number is a plurality measured
by unity. An infinite multitude in act is therefore im¬
possible, for it would be an indeterminate and indis¬
tinct multitude, foreign to every species of multitude.
The second argument is equally rigorous. Every ex¬
isting multitude in the real world is created. But every
created reality is the terminus of a determinate in¬
tention of the Creator, since no agent acts without an
end (a fortiori the infinitely wise agent which is the
Creator). It is therefore necessary that all created
things constitute a determined or definite number,
and hence impossible for there to be an infinite mul¬
titude in act.
On the other hand, there is nothing to prevent the
existence of an infinite multitude in potency, that is
to say, of a finite multitude capable of increasing in¬
definitely without ever becoming infinite in act. In
the preceding article, where Thomas also rejects all
infinite spatial magnitude, he notes that the infinite
dealt with in mathematics is always the infinite in po¬
tency, that is to say, the indefinite or the finite which
increases indefinitely.
This doctrine seems enlightening to me and its ap¬
plication to the problem of the universe’s past
equally clear. However, a possible source of misun¬
derstanding must first be eliminated. So long as one
thinks merely of the being of the universe, that is, the
universe as a substance or a set of substances, it makes
20
no sense to say that it “began” to exist “at a moment

in time” or “in time.” This would be to imagine a
time existing before the world as an autonomous ent¬
ity. I he only question which arises concerning the
order of finite substances is whether or not this order
is caused. But the universe is not inert since the finite
substances which constitute it are essentially active.
Therefore, the universe is subject to perpetual evo¬
lution, the source of many and varied movements or
changes, and the question arises: Did this evolution
have a beginning point?
This is the real problem raised by the universe’s
past. Here again it is not a question as to whether
evolution began “in time” or “at a certain moment
in time,” as if time existed before the world. This
was Kant’s mistake when he formulated his “first an¬
tinomy.” He thought that one who affirms the “be¬
ginning” of the world presupposes a prior existence
of time. In short he repeated the faulty argument by
which Aristotle claimed to demonstrate the eternity
of time, an argument which was repeatedly refuted
in the Middle Ages. The true question is simply to
determine whether or not the evolution of the uni¬
verse had a beginning, whether or not there was for
each created substance a first activity, a first becom¬
ing.
Once one has understood that a quantitative infi¬
nite in act is an impossibility, there can be no doubt
concerning the answer to the question just raised.
Evolution had a beginning, for an evolution without
a beginning, without a first, without a point of de¬
parture, would be infinite, which is absolutely impos¬
sible. With the evolution of the universe time began,
21
since time is defined as the measure of motion or of

change.
It is interesting to note that recent developments
in the natural sciences confirm the idea of a point of
departure for evolution. The world of antiquity was
a world without history, eternally subject to the same
physical laws determined by the circular, uniform,
and perpetual movement of the heavenly spheres
around our planet. Modern science presents a very
different picture of the cosmos. This is evident in
biology. Life appeared on earth at a certain deter¬
minate period in the past. And several well-known
physical systems now extend the idea of evolution to
the material universe as a whole and assign a point
of departure to this evolution. This evidently raises
new problems, which the methods of the positive sci¬
ences cannot resolve. Here they must yield the field
to the philosophers. But it is highly suggestive to ob¬
serve that contemporary science is turning towards
a view which rejoins that of the philosophers who
were opposed to the eternity of the world.
How is one to account for the strange variations
which we found in St. Thomas concerning the infi¬
nite? As for myself , I find no other explanation than
his extraordinary respect for Aristotle, whose au¬
thority regarding the eternity of the world was con¬
firmed by the unanimous agreement of the great
Greek and Arabic philosophers. As I have indicated,
it is in Aristotle’s Physics that Thomas found the idea
that the infinite in succession is an infinite in potency.
The Stagirite, who was forced into af firming eternity
of the world because he did not know the doctrine of
creation, but who also rejected without reservation
99
the infinite in act, found this means of escape in his

attempt to reconcile the two theses: eternity of the
world, and the impossibility of an infinite in act. St.
Thomas took up this notion that an infinite in succes¬
sion is not an infinite in act.
That Thomas abandoned the solid teaching of
Question 7 under Aristotle’s influence is confirmed
by the curious weakness of the positions he defends
in Question 46 when he discusses the origin of the
world.
This emerges first from a study of the two argu¬
ments which he of fers in the corpus of article 2 in
order to justify his agnostic thesis that one cannot
rationally demonstrate that the world began to be. In
the first argument he calls upon the Aristotelian the¬
ory of demonstration, as we have seen above (pp. 11-
12). It is surprising that Thomas did not recognize
the weakness of this argument. He well knows that
besides the kind of demonstration which Aristotle
proposes as perfect demonstration, there are other
types of valid demonstration: for instance, demon¬
strating a cause from an ef fect, the only kind of dem¬
onstration which makes it possible to prove God’s
existence. He should have shown that no type of
demonstration can enable one to prove that the world
began. Moreover, even a demonstration starting from
essence would be possible, since he himself in Ques¬
tion 7 had proved the impossibility of an infinite in
act from the essence of multitude. And from this im¬
possibility it would have been easy to deduce the im¬
possibility of an eternal past. In the second argument
lie appeals to the divine freedom, whose mystery
transcends human reason. We cannot know whether
God willed to create an eternal or a temporal world.

But in Question 7 he had shown that the divine will
cannot have as its object any infinite multitude, a fact
which evidently rules out an infinite series of past
events.
The same weakness appears in Thomas’ replies to
some of the objections which he raised against himself
at the beginning of the article. In the interests of
brevity, I shall consider only the sixth, which is the
most typical and which might be a reply to Bona-
venture’s strongest argument against the eternity of
the world. This warrants closer study. Bonaventure
took as a concrete example the celestial revolutions,
a fundamental element of Aristotelian cosmology
which was universally accepted in the thirteenth cen¬
tury. According to Aristotle the heavenly spheres re¬
volve eternally around the earth, and these revolu¬
tions determine the divisions of time into years,
months, and days. The Franciscan Master put the
following dilemma to defenders of eternity of the
world. Are all the past revolutions at a finite (and
hence numerable) distance from the present revolu¬
tion, or are certain revolutions infinitely distant from
the present one? If one chooses the first alternative,
one concedes that the world began, since the fur¬
thermost revolution is still at a finite distance from
the present one. It is therefore the first and with it
cosmic evolution began. If one chooses the second
alternative, affirming that at least one past revolution
is at an infinite distance from the present one, what
is the situation with respect to the revolution which
immediately follows it? If this is at a finite distance,
the same must be said concerning the preceding one,
24
since it differs from it by only one unit (a unit added

to the finite cannot produce the infinite!). One must
then say that the succeeding revolution is also at an
infinite distance. But then the same problem arises
with respect to the third revolution, and then with
the fourth and so on. In short, on this hypothesis it
is not possible to account for the transition from in¬
finitely distant revolutions to those which we know
and which are clearly at a finite distance from the
present day.
The value of demonstrations such as these is that
they are proofs by means of the absurd. The hypoth¬
esis of the eternity of the world is shown to imply
absurd consequences and is thus itself absurd. This
is an important method, since many do not immedi¬
ately understand that a quantitative infinite is impos¬
sible. They adopt the hypothesis of an eternal world
and consequently of an infinite series of events with¬
out any beginning point. Then they take refuge in
the mystery of the infinite in order to ward off all
objections raised against them, just like a warship
which, when threatened by the enemy, surrounds it¬
self with a thick artificial fog. Fortunately, however,
there is one way of refuting them—to show that their
hypotheses involve absurd consequences. This is what
Bonaventure does in the argument described above.
According to Professor A. Zimmermann, distin¬
guished Director of the Thomas-Institut in Cologne,
Thomas responded to Bonaventure’s objection in his
reply to objection 6 in Question 46, art. 2. This is
debatable, but, if this is the case, Thomas’ reply ap¬
pears to me to be inadequate. According to objection
6, if the world has always existed, an infinity of days
25
has preceded the present one (that is to say, today).

But it is not possible to traverse the infinite. There¬
fore, it would have been impossible to reach the pres¬
ent day. What is Thomas’ reply? There is no “trav¬
ersing,” he says, but that from one point to another.
Whatever day in the past is designated, from that
point to the present the distance is always finite and
can, therefore, be traversed.
A surprising and totally unsatisfactory reply! What¬
ever day in the past is “designated,” he says, is at a
finite distance from today. That is evident, because,
since I could not designate (signare) an infinitely dis¬
tant day, such a day would be completely unknowable
to me. But then I in turn propose a dilemma. Can
one designate each of the days which have really ex¬
isted in the past without exception? If the reply isy«,
one concedes that the world began since all past days
without exception are at a finite distance from the
present one, and therefore the furthermost day is the
first day. If the reply is no, one then concedes that
one or more days are at an infinite distance from
today and falls into Bonaventure’s trap.
Let us end this first lecture with a brief conclusion.

Thomas Aquinas, like all his contemporaries, had to
face the unanimous affirmation of the Greek and
Arabic philosophers along with certain Masters in the
Arts Faculty at Paris to this effect, that the world is
eternal in the past. Like all Catholic theologians he
always rejected eternity of the world because of his
faith. But, contrary to most of the theologians, he
unceasingly maintained that the beginning of the
26
world could not be rationally demonstrated. Yet he

had formulated some excellent principles concerning
the impossibility of any infinite in act. But the au¬
thority of the great philosophers prevented him from
applying these principles to the case of the origin of
the world.
I he controversy which I have here described is not
just an academic discussion. It has important meta¬
physical and even religious repercussions. For when
one clearly understands that the material universe
could not be eternal, but that its evolution and, con¬
sequently, its very being, had a beginning, one real¬
izes immediately that this universe could not be with¬
out a cause, as is still alleged today by materialistic
philosophers. It depends for its very being on a cause
which transcends matter and evolution. Here one has
an interesting path towards the discovery of God as
creator of the universe.
27
I HESECOND LECTURE
MONOPSYCHISM
The second important questionable position de¬

fended by radical Aristotelianism, and one that
Thomas Aquinas unceasingly opposed, is mono¬
psychism. You are undoubtedly familiar with this
term. It refers to that doctrine according to which
there is only one immaterial soul for all of mankind,
and, as a consequence, only one intellect. This collec¬
tive soul is therefore the true subject of thought.
When an individual believes that he himself is think¬
ing, in fact it is rather the unique soul for the human
species that thinks in him by using his brain images
(phantasmata) in order to abstract ideas therefrom.
This doctrine was first formulated by the Arab phi¬
losopher, Averroes, who lived at Cordoba in Spain in
the twelfth century. It was revived in the thirteenth
century by certain Masters of the Arts Faculty at Paris
and then, at the beginning of the fourteenth century,
by John of Jandun and his Parisian school. Finally,
the same doctrine was taught for many centuries by
the Italian Averroists of Bologna and Padua. Mono¬
psychism is, therefore, a typical Averroistic doctrine
and, to the extent that they defended this same po¬
sition, the radical Aristotelians deserve to be called
“Averroists.”
At first sight it is difficult to understand how a
doctrine so strange, so contrary to psychological ex¬
perience as well as to fundamental dogmas of Chris¬
tianity, could have been taught with conviction by cer-
29
tain Christian Masters for many centuries. As we shall

see, this is to be explained both by reason of the ex¬
traordinary regard these Masters had for Aristotle,
and by their equally great regard for metaphysical
values even when they seem to run counter to the
data of experience.
This lecture will once more include three parts. I
shall first describe the origins and the nature of
monopsychism. This exposition will be illustrated by
a concrete example, the Quaestiones in tertium de annua
of Siger of Brabant. Then I shall present Thomas
Aquinas’ reaction to this curious position, especially
by concentrating on an analysis of his De unitate in-
tellectus. Finally, I shall conclude with some critical
reflections about this controversy.
I
Monopsychism finds its historical origins in Aris¬
totle’s philosophy. The Stagirite was unaware of the
doctrine of creation. As a consequence he viewed the
universe as an eternal hierarchical order that is nec¬
essary in itself and includes two subordinated worlds
radically different in nature, the higher or celestial
world and the lower or earthly world. The higher
world consists of eternal substances, each of which
forms a distinct species. In this celestial world there
are, on the one hand, the transparent heavenly
spheres which revolve around the earth and each of
which bears one or more heavenly body, that is to
say, the planets and the fixed stars; and there are, on
the other hand, the immaterial movers of the spheres,
among which the highest is the First Mover or the
absolutely Unmoved Mover, which moves the entire
30
Monopsychism
universe by attraction or insofar as it is an object of

love, that is to say, as a final cause of all the move¬
ments of the universe. The lower or sublunary world,
on the contrary, consists of substances that are subject
to generation and corruption. While species them¬
selves are eternal, individuals succeed one another in
time. In order to guarantee the permanence of the
species, individuals therein can reproduce and mul¬
tiply because of prime matter, the principle of indi¬
viduation and of purely numerical multiplication of
the specific perfection. In this lower world only prime
matter is eternal and uncaused.
In such a universe the problem of human nature
was bound to raise insurmountable difficulties for
Aristotle. The Stagirite regarded thinking as one of
man’s activities and the intellect (nous) as a part of
the soul, that is to say, a part of the principle of life
in man. Moreover, the intellect is man’s specific dif¬
ference, since he is defined as a “rational animal.”
And in the Nicomachean Ethics, intellectual contem¬
plation is described as man’s ultimate perfection. But
at the same time the Philosopher stresses the imma¬
terial nature of thought and of the intellect which is
its principle. Being immaterial, the intellect cannot be
generated by the substantial change of matter. And
in fact, in a celebrated passage in his treatise On the
Generation of Animals Aristotle states that the intellect
in man “comes from without” (literally: “through
the door”). How is one to reconcile all of this? Man
clearly belongs to the category of corruptible corpo¬
real substances and to the genus “animal. He is
therefore composed of matter and form, of body and
soul. He is born and he dies like all animals. But the
intellect as immaterial and inorganic seems to belong

to another world, that of immaterial substances which
are eternal, simple, and each of which is unique in its
species. How is such an intellect to be united with the
individual human being? From whence does such an
intellect come? How can it constitute man’s specific
perfection? What becomes of it at the death of the
individual man? Does each human individual possess
his own intellect? If so, how can this immaterial sub¬
stance be multiplied within one and the same species?
These questions cannot be resolved within the frame¬
work of Aristotle’s metaphysics. To what extent did
he recognize them? We cannot say, but one thing is
certain. He had the wisdom to leave these questions
unresolved rather than to involve himself in hy¬
potheses that run counter to experience. And this
attests both to his common sense and to his genius.1
But his prudence was to lead to unending contro¬
versies on the part of his disciples down through the
centuries, first among the Greeks, then among Arab
and Jewish thinkers, and finally within the Christian
world. Time will not permit us to recall here the long
history of these controversies and the many solutions
proposed for the enigmas of Aristotle’s Treatise on the
Soul (.De anima). I shall limit myself to one observation,
both because it is important and because I have not
found it in the historians who have studied these con¬
troversies. To the extent that Aristotle’s disciples are
influenced by Neoplatonism, to that extent do they
escape from the difficulties of his psychology, and
this because they abandon the rigid framework of his
1 Cf. F. Van Steenberghen, Aristotle in the West, pp. 10-15.
32
Monopsychism
metaphysics. This fact is quite striking in Avicenna.

Because of his theory of emanation he sees no dif fi¬
culty in saying that many immaterial souls emanate
from the Tenth Intelligence and unite themselves to
the various human bodies generated here below. But
somewhat later Averroes reacts strongly against these
“deviations” on Avicenna’s part and returns to a
much more authentic Aristotelianism. Immediately,
all of the antinomies of the De anima reappear.
In truth there are only two possible ways of escap¬
ing from the impasse in which Aristotle’s psychology
finds itself. One may remain within the framework
of Aristotle’s metaphysics and then one ends in
monopsychism. This is the path followed by Aver¬
roes. Or else one may start from the psychological
analyses of the De anima and the Ethics and correct
the metaphysical deficiencies of the Stagirite by ap¬
pealing to the doctrine of creative causality. This is
the way chosen by Thomas Aquinas.
Let us first consider Averroes’ solution. His fun¬
damental thesis is simple and perfectly logical. Aris¬
totle, he maintains, has demonstrated that intellection
is an inorganic activity and immaterial in nature. The
principle of intellection or the intellective soul is
therefore an immaterial substance. But, according to
Aristotle, an immaterial substance is eternal, unge¬
nerated and incorruptible, and unique in its species.
Therefore the intellective soul is an eternal substance
and unique for all mankind.
Once this fundamental thesis has been established
(which a Paris Master of Siger’s school will accurately
style the fundamentum Commentatoris), Averroes must
explain how intellectual activity on the part of this
separate and unique substance can become in some

way the activity of individual human beings. For one
must account for the fact that we have at least the
impression of engaging in thinking. Averroes must
explain how he himself could write his learned books
and discuss therein the view of other philosophers
whose positions differed from his own. The single
intellect evidently thinks in different ways in different
individuals. Averroes diligently attempts to account
for all of these facts. His central point is this. The
single intellect is naturally ordered toward individual
human beings. It unites itself to them in their brains
by making use of their cerebral images in order to
abstract ideas therefrom and it uses these ideas in
order to think in them. It is in this way that the ac¬
tivity of the single intellect takes place in different
fashion in different individuals, and each individual
has the impression that he is thinking when in fact
the intellect for the whole species thinks in him by
using his images.
Certain Masters of the Faculty of Arts at Paris had
been won over to the Averroistic interpretation of the
De anima during the decade that runs from 1260 to
1270. It seemed to them that this was the only way
of doing justice to the great principles of Aristotelian
metaphysics, in particular to this fundamental law:
An immaterial substance is unique within its species,
separate from matter and eternal. Such is the situa¬
tion with respect to the intellective human soul.
What is striking in this attitude is the extraordinary
attachment on the part of its defenders to what they
regarded as intangible metaphysical values. One is
here at the opposite pole from the empiricist men-
34
Monopsychism
tality, so widespread today, and especially in America.

As I have already indicated, it is this respect for me¬
taphysical values, joined with an unswerving fidelity
to the authority of Aristotle, that accounts for the
survival of the Averroistic school until the beginning
of the seventeenth century.
But let us return to the first “Averroists” of the
Faculty of Arts at Paris. We still know very little about
the beginnings of this school before 1270. As regards
monopsychism, until now we have only one direct
source for this fundamentally heterodox doctrine
— Siger of Brabant’s Qiiaestiones in tertium de anima
(Questions on Bk III of the De anima). This work, which
we have already cited with respect to the eternity of
the world,2 was published in its entirety in 1972. What
we have is not Siger’s own redaction but a reportatio
of the Master’s lectures, that is to say, notes taken by
an auditor during his lectures. There are solid rea¬
sons for dating these lectures in 1269.
The position which Siger presents here coincides
substantially with that of Averroes. There is only one
agent intellect and only one possible (that is to say,
receiving) intellect for all mankind. These intellects
are not united to individual men by their substance,
but only by their activity. When we have the impres¬
sion that we ourselves are thinking, it is really the
possible intellect which thinks in us with the aid of
our brain images. Let us follow our philosopher in
his development of this Averroist doctrine.
Siger’s Qiiaestiones form a small, well-constructed
treatise, divided into four parts, which treat respec-
2 See above, pp. 7-8.

tively of the differences between the intellect and the

other parts of the soul, the nature of the intellect in
itself, the relationship of the intellect to human bod¬
ies, and the intellect’s powers of operation.
In the first part the author considers only one ques¬
tion. Is the intellective principle “rooted” in the
same substance as the vegetative and sensitive prin¬
ciples?3 At first sight this wording is reassuring since
in the preceding lines the intellect has twice been re¬
ferred to as “part” of the soul in that it was com¬
pared to “other parts of the soul.” One therefore
has the impression that for Siger the intellect truly
belongs to the soul of the individual. But we shall
soon see that this favorable impression is not well
grounded.
The problem under consideration had divided the
Scholastics for quite some time, since two divergent
positions had developed during the first half of the
century. These may be roughly described as the view
of the philosophers and the view of the theologians.
The philosophers ordinarily admitted the existence
of at least two souls in man — a vegetative-sensitive
soul “drawn from the potency of matter” and the
terminus of natural generation, and an immaterial
intellective soul which is created immediately by God
either at the moment of conception or during the
course of the development of the embryo. The the¬
ologians, on the other hand, usually defended the
existence of only one soul, which is the principle of all
of man’s activities because of its three powers of op¬
eration.
3 “Utrum intellectivum radicatur in eadem animae substantia cum

vegetativo et sensitivo” (Bazan ed., p. 1).
36
Monopsychism
Albert the Great had first defended the view of the

theologians in his Summa de creaturis (ca. 1240-1245).
But he had proposed a new position in his De natura
et origine anirnae, undoubtedly written after 1260. The
intellective soul, created by God, is united to the veg¬
etative-sensitive soul which itself is progressively
formed in the embryo. The intellective soul consti¬
tutes with the latter one single composite substance,
which is partly of internal origin and partly of exter¬
nal origin (partim ah intrinseco et partim ah extrinseco).
The same position is presented in the anonymous
Quaestiones de anirna which have been published by J.
Vennebusch and which he dates around 1260.4
This brief historical summary will serve to clarify
Siger’s position in the first question of his treatise.
In presenting the human soul as a composite soul, he
remains within the “philosophical” tradition and
one might believe that he is defending an entirely
traditional position. But let us examine this more
closely.
After he has rejected the opinion of the theolo¬
gians, Siger states that the intellect, having come from
without, unites with the vegetative and sensitive prin¬
ciple. By this union the human soul itsell is constituted,
which is a composite soul. Here Siger seems to admit
of a substantial bond between the two components of
the human soul, which would in turn imply duality
of substantial forms in man: the intellective soul, and
the vegetative-sensitive soul. But this interpretation
is excluded by later questions in the treatise where he
4 On the history of this problem see J. M. da Cruz Pontes, “lx? pro-

bleme de l’origine de Fame de la patristique a la solution thomiste,”
Recherches de theologie ancienne et medievcde 31 (1964), pp. 197-227.
professes the most classical kind of Averroism. The

intellect is a single separate substance. It cannot be
the substantial form of the body (q. 7), but perfects
(perficit) it by its power of operation which is united
to the individual’s power of operation, his imagina¬
tion. Moreover, it is because the intellect is a separate
substance that it is unique and eternal (qq. 9 and 2).
There can be no question, therefore, of a true sub¬
stantial union in the treatise’s first question.
The second part studies the nature of the intellect
in itself. The intellect is eternal, at least if one holds
to Aristotle’s opinion (which we have discussed in the
previous lecture).5 Hence it is ungenerated. Among
commentators on Aristotle, only Alexander of
Aphrodisias had defended the opposed position. But
we are conscious of receiving universal forms (ideas)
in ourselves. Since a material power can only grasp
material objects, that is to say, individuals, the intel¬
lect is therefore an immaterial reality and cannot be
generated.
Ungenerated, the intellect is also incorruptible by its
nature. However, since it is finite, it does not have of
itself the power to exist perpetually. It owes its per¬
petual character to its Cause, which in creating it also
gives to it the capacity to endure forever. But this
capacity is dependent upon the divine will.
Finally, the intellect is not composed of matter and
form. At the conclusion of a long and interesting dis¬
cussion with defenders of spiritual matter, Siger ex¬
cludes all matter from the intellect. It is composed
only of genus and a specific difference.
5 See above, pp. 7-8.
38
Monopsychism
1'he third part, which considers the single intel¬

lect’s relation to the plurality of human bodies, is
most important, since Siger here unveils clearly his
Averroist positions. The intellect perfects the body
not by its substance but by its power of operation. Its
union with the body is therefore by operation, not
substantial. In what does this union by operation con¬
sist? It is twofold. As a mover of the body the intellect
moves the entire body per se and every part of the
body per accidens. As principle of intellection, the in¬
tellect is united only to the imagination (phantasia)
and to its organ, the brain. As a separate substance,
the intellect is unique for the entire human species.
Moreover, since the intellect is incorruptible, the spe¬
cies is adequately represented by one single intellect,
as is true of all separate substances. But its activity
varies in different individuals because each presents
to the unique intellect its own cerebral images {phan¬
tasma ta).
In the fourth part Siger considers the two powers
of the intellect and their activity. It is here that the
insurmountable difficulties of the Averroist position
come to the surface, and Siger examines these with
great loyalty. First of all, is the intellect passive in its
activity? It is not passive in the way in which matter
is, but it is receptive. It is of itself in potency to the
intelligible representations which it receives. But if,
like every immaterial reality, it is impassible, can it
suffer from Fire? Hardly a philosophical question,
notes Siger, since it obviously refers to the fire of hell,
a matter of concern to theology rather than philos¬
ophy. Nonetheless, our philosopher considers this is¬
sue because he sees in the theologians’ explanations
39
certain points which do not appear to be in harmony

with philosophical theses. He could have immediately
avoided the problem by appealing to his Averroist
positions. The single intellective soul for all mankind
is never in the condition of a separate soul, since it
is always united to the many individuals in whom it
exercises its intellectual activity. In a word, according
to the Averroist point of view, the question of sanc¬
tions in the life to come does not even arise and the
problem of hell-fire is simply a false problem. But
before arriving at this conclusion, Siger permits him¬
self the pleasure of criticizing different views held by
the theologians.
As we said, the intellect is receptive, in potency.
How then does it pass into act? By the action of the
agent intellect, which produces ideas by abstraction
from our images and “informs” the receptive intel¬
lect with them. The receptive intellect first grasps first
principles in an infallible manner, and then all else
in light of these first principles. The receptive intel¬
lect always knows the agent intellect, but is not united
to us in this higher kind of knowledge. We know of
the existence of the agent intellect because we have
a certain experience of the fact that the receptive in¬
tellect receives abstract ideas. This reveals to us the
abstractive activity of the agent intellect.
But all of this raises certain difficulties, which Siger
himself lists. How can the agent intellect produce a
multiplicity of intelligibles in an intellect which is sim¬
ple, immaterial, and inorganic? How can the intel¬
lect’s operation be regarded as our own, if the intel¬
lect itself is united to us only by means of our images,
which are nothing but the matter for intellection?
40
Monopsychism
I hese questions give rise to a lengthy discussion

which is quite interesting. In substance Siger’s reply
is this, rhe intellect’s operation becomes ours in
some way because by its nature the intellect has need
of our images in order to exercize its activities. This
is why Averroes shows that the union of this unique
and eternal intellect with the human species, which
is also unique and eternal, is more essential than its
union with any particular individual.
But Siger is too intelligent to be satisfied with this
reply. In the following lecture he sums up the diffi¬
culties he has encountered before, and this time pre¬
sents them as threefold. How is the unique intellect
united with us? How can this intellect’s knowing be
diversified in different human individuals? If the in¬
tellect is a separate substance, why does it have need
of corporeal images? Here are the essentials of his
response. Our union with the intellect is a fact, since
we are conscious of possessing in ourselves the con¬
tents of abstract thought. Since this union cannot be
substantial, we must conclude that it is only by way
of operation. There is another fact. Intellectual activ¬
ity is realized in different ways in different individ¬
uals. This fact can only be explained by reason of the
different images which are present in different brains.
But it is difficult to explain how our images can serve
as a bond between ourselves and the intellect, since
they cease to be images once they become ideas in the
intellect. Siger finds no other explanation but the fact
that the intellect is naturally united to us. It is of its
nature to draw its ideas from our images.
Since the intellect is a separate substance for Siger,
he does not go beyond the limits of his treatise by
41
raising two questions relating to the knowledge en¬

joyed by separate substances. First of all, do they
know themselves? And secondly, do separate sub¬
stances know one another? A separate substance
knows itself because it is an intelligible in act. It is not
singularity but matter which presents an obstacle to
thought. But one separate substance cannot know
another one because, according to Aristotle, a sepa¬
rate substance knows only by knowing its own sub¬
stance. Such knowledge may reveal to it the existence
of either its cause or its effect. But separate sub¬
stances are not related to one another as cause and
effect. Therefore, they cannot know one another. But
they do know the First Cause, precisely because they
are its effects.
Siger raises a Final question. Can the intellect know
the particular? This question was much debated dur¬
ing the thirteenth century. He explains that a certain
knowledge of the particular is possible because the
content of a universal idea is realized in the particular
which that idea represents. But the intellect cannot
know a particular in forma propria, that is to say, in
that which formally constitutes its individuality.
Here we have, to be sure, a radically heterodox
interpretation of Aristotelian psychology. Siger sets
forth these positions so subversive to religion without
any apparent scruple. However, at times he does ex¬
perience some hesitation with respect to his Averroist
theses, and he acknowledges this with the same frank¬
ness. His behavior betrays the marks of his youthful¬
ness — levity, intransigence, audacity. But the young
Master will soon encounter opposition from the theo¬
logians as well as censure by ecclesiastical authority.
42
Monopsychism
He will emerge from that conflict as more mature and

more prudent. In sum, then, the Quaestiones in tertium
de anima reveal a young Master who is bold but also
loyal, one who is deeply impressed by Aristotle, and
one who sees in Averroes the best interpreter of the
Stagirite’s psychology.* 6
II
One may ask, what was Thomas Aquinas’ reaction
to monopsychism? In order to reply to this question
I shall first present a brief overview of the anthro¬
pology which Thomas developed, in large part in or¬
der to meet the challenge of Averroes. Then I shall
analyze his small treatise, De imitate intellectus, which
he wrote in 1270 against Siger of Brabant and other
Parisian defenders of Averroist monopsychism.7
As I indicated in my first lecture, St. Thomas was
aware of the major shortcomings of Greek and Arabic
phik isophy from the beginning of his career. Thus
one finds in Bk II of his Commentary on the Sentences
(dating ca. 1255) a noteworthy historical exposition
on the problem of the intellect (Dist. 17, q. 2, a. 1)
in which Averroes’ monopsychism is explained and
criticized at length. This indicates that by that time
Thomas had developed his own anthropology. I say
“his own anthropology” because here, as in so many
other areas, his thought is quite original and per¬
sonal.
B For a more complete analysis of the Qiiaestnmes in tertium de anima
see F. Van Steenberghen, Maitre Siger de Brabant, pp. 339-47.
7 A detailed study of the text of theZ> mutate intellects is an excellent
theme for a seminar in medieval philosophy, as 1 have experienced
first at Louvain, then at Milan and at Lublin (Poland). Everywhere this
living and substantial text aroused great student interest.
In order to show this I need only recall that the

anthropology of the Fathers of the Church, of Chris¬
tian philosophers, and of theologians until the middle
of the thirteenth century had always been spiritualistic
and dualistic: spiritualistic, because the human soul is
defined as a spiritual and immaterial reality and
hence as immortal; dualistic, because man is thought
of as a hybrid being, consisting of two substances, one
corporeal and one spiritual. I bis dualistic view of
human nature obviously comes from Plato. Dualism
is normally heavily emphasized by non-Christian
thinkers. Witness Plotinus among the Greeks, Avi¬
cenna in the Muslim world, and Avicebron among
the Jews. In the Christian world, on the other hand,
Platonic dualism is always more or less tempered due
to the influence of Christianity, since the dogma of
the Incarnation of the divine Word and that of re¬
demption by Christ’s death and resurrection imply
that the Lord’s body is really part of his human na¬
ture. This is confirmed once more by the dogma of
resurrection of the flesh for all mankind. For St. Au¬
gustine, for instance, the body is no longer a “prison”
for the soul as it is for Plato. Body and soul are two
substances, but together they form human nature by
their intimate union. In the thirteenth century still,
in spite of the increasing influence of Aristotle, all
Christian thinkers prior to Aquinas held a dualistic
anthropology. This is true of St. Bonaventure, in
spite of his undeniable efforts to safeguard the unity
of the human person. And it is also true of Albert
the Great, Thomas’ teacher at Cologne.
Some have been misled in reading these forerun¬
ners of St. Thomas because of their usage of an Ar-
44
Monopsychism
istotelian terminology. But in fact their formulae

never express the real Aristotelian doctrine of sub¬
stantial union of soul and body in living beings when
they speak of man.
Why did St. Thomas abandon this traditional an¬

thropology? For two reasons, I believe. First of all,
for one that is purely philosophical. The dualistic
view does not do justice to the obvious unity of a
human being, since a being that is truly one cannot
consist of two substances. Secondly, for a reason
based on expediency, which reinforced the First. Ar¬
istotle’s philosophy held open the possibility of over¬
coming dualism by rigorous application to man of
hylemorphic composition, that is to say, matter-form
composition. On this basis it was possible to refute
the Averroistic anthropology by showing that it can¬
not be reconciled with that of Aristotle. But defend¬
ers of the dualist anthropology, by basing themselves
on a philosophy that was foreign to Aristotelianism,
had no chance of winning acceptance from the Phi¬
losopher’s dedicated followers or even of entering
into meaningful dialogue with them.
Thomas Aquinas therefore introduced a new an¬

thropology, with this as its fundamental thesis: Man
is a single substance, composed of matter and form. But this
“substantial form" is entirely different in nature from that
of lower forms, including animal souls. The human soul is
an “immaterial” form and therefore "subsisting,' and
“incorruptible” or immortal. As one can see, this fun¬
damental thesis involves applying to man Aristotle’s
hylemorphic theory in fullest measure, while at the
same time maintaining the immaterial and subsistent
Fernand Van Ste enterghen
character of the soul. This position had never been

defended before Aquinas.
Thomas did not merely state this new position. He
proved it in rigorous fashion by showing that it is the
only metaphysical explanation that can do justice to
the data of consciousness. Let us now develop this
fundamental thesis.
1. Man is one substance, that is to say, a subsistent
being that is truly one. All the data provided by ex¬
perience and especially by consciousness point to this
substantial unity. I am conscious of being a “self,”
a single “conscious subject.” I am also conscious of
the fact that “my body” is a constituting element of
my “self’ and not a distinct and juxtaposed being
with which I would only have more or less close re¬
lationships. All the activities that take place in this
body are really mine: I breathe, I take nourishment,
I have stomach trouble or liver trouble, I see, I un¬
derstand, etc.
2. This substance is therefore the principle or
source of manifold activities in differing degrees. The
majority of these activities take place in a corporeal
organ, but thinking and willing are immaterial in na¬
ture and hence “inorganic” activities. All of this,
once more, is established by starting from experience
and is expressed in a truly noteworthy doctrine on
the activity and the capacity to expand of a finite
substance. Due to this capacity this substance enters
into contact with other finite substances and is thereby
enriched.
3. This substance is a true hylemorphic composite.
Once more, then, we are dealing with an interpre¬
tation required by the data of experience. In Aris-
46
Monopsychism
totelianism one may demonstrate matter-form com¬

position of corporeal substances in different but
converging ways. I will simply recall them here. One
may start from the fact of substantial change, which is
clear in the case of living beings since they are subject
to birth and death. One may also take as one’s point
of departure the passivity that is involved in bodily
activity. One may start from the continuous change
that is found in bodies by reason of their quantity,
the distinctive characteristic of corporeal being, since
the body is defined in terms of extension. Finally, one
may start from the multiplicity of individuals within the
same species, a fact that is difficult to deny at least in
living beings which reproduce themselves within the
same species. But all of these signs pointing to matter-
form composition are found in man as well as in an¬
imals. Man is subject to birth and death. He is passive
in his organic activities. Such activities are subject to
time, the measure of continuous change. Finally, man
reproduces himself within the human species, which
includes countless individual men. None of these
facts could he accounted for if the human substance
were viewed as a “pure form,” that is, as a simple
essence or substantial determination in the pure state.
4. But man’s substantial form or human soul is
very unusual in nature, and this enables it to serve as
the meet ing point between the world of the corporeal
and the purely spiritual. It is here that the originality
and, in my opinion, the genius of St. Thomas mani¬
fests itself. Again, we are not dealing with a mere
hypothesis, or a theory invented out of thin air to
solve a particular problem or to save a religious doc¬
trine. It is rather a metaphysical conclusion required
47
by the data of consciousness. And it is here that

Thomas both meets and overcomes the Averroist po¬
sition.
The dominant fact that controls Thomas’ meta¬
physical view of the human soul is, in brief, the cogito.
I am conscious of thinking. “It is evident that this
individual man thinks,” writes Thomas in his De uni-
tate intellectus. In other words, intellectual activity,
which Aristotle had shown to be immaterial and in¬
organic, is truly an activity of the human individual
that I am. Starting from this undeniable fact, St.
Thomas demonstrates that the soul, the substantial
principle of this activity, must be man’s substantial
form, even though it itself is immaterial in nature. In
brief, then, it is at one and the same time the form of
matter and an immaterial form.
—form of matter: it constitutes with the material
principle the human substance, and the unique source
of all of man’s activities.
—immaterial form: that is to say, a form that is spir¬
itual in nature, analogous to the separate forms of
Aristotle or the pure spirits of Christian theology. As
a consequence it is a subsisting form and, therefore,
incorruptible, immortal, imperishable, even when the
other composing principle, matter, is lacking due to
the destruction of the human substance through
death.
This fundamental thesis carries with it an impor¬
tant corollary. The human sold is directly created by
God at the end of a biological process which leads to
the production of a new human individual. It is be¬
cause of his creationist metaphysics that Thomas was
able to escape from the impasse in which Aristotle
48
Monopsychism
had found himself. As we have already indicated, the

Stagirite could not conceive of the coming into being
of an immaterial soul in the course of time, since for
him every substance separated from matter was eter¬
nal and uncaused. For St. Thomas, on the contrary,
as for all other Christian teachers, the coming into
being of immaterial substances in the course of time
does not present any great difficulty, since for them
the creative influx is a permanent causality which
gives being to all new entities that appear in the
course of the universe’s development. In thus ac¬
counting for the origin of the soul by creation St.
Thomas’ teaching does not differ from that of his
Christian predecessors.
One can see how the anthropology of Thomas
Aquinas meets and refutes the Averroist anthropol¬
ogy. The data of consciousness force one to recognize
that the intellective soul is man’s substantial form.
Like all substantial forms it is individuated by its re¬
lationship to matter and can be multiplied numeri¬
cally within its species, since God creates each soul in
and for a determined body. The human soul is there¬
fore not a “separate substance” in the Aristotelian
sense and, as a consequence, need not be unique in
its species, as the Averroists maintain. It truly is a
“substantial form” while also being a “subsisting
form.
Now we shall consider Thomas’ reaction to Aver¬
roist monopsychism by turning to his l)e imitate intel-
lectus. Within the limited confines of the University
of Paris, and after Bonaventure’s interventions of
1267 and 1268, Siger’s more than temerarious
teaching there could not have remained unknown,
and all the more so since his was not an isolated case.
Documents from that period point to the existence
of a group of heterodox Masters who had gathered
around him. Thomas Aquinas could not ignore the
indignant protests raised by Bonaventure and one
may be certain that, after his return to Paris, he dis¬
creetly informed himself about the frame of mind
and the teaching of the Masters envisioned by Bon¬
aventure. It would not have been difficult for Thomas
while at Saint-Jacques, the Dominican House, to ac¬
quire the notes of students who were studying in the
Faculty of Arts. He quickly recognized the gravity of
the situation and among those mistaken positions
then being circulated in that faculty, he judged es¬
pecially dangerous Averroist monopsychism. His
judgment was fully justified because, among all the
heresies denounced by Bonaventure, none would
have more disastrous consequences of a moral and
religious nature than this position which would elim¬
inate the personality, moral responsibility, and im¬
mortality of individual human beings.
Faithful to his mission to serve truth, Thomas be¬
gan to prepare a brief treatise wherein he will system¬
atically refute the Averroist position while restricting
himself to the purely philosophical level. He is well
aware of the sincere conviction which inspires the
young Masters of Arts. Their fervor for Aristotle
blinds them to such an extent that they fly in the face
of common sense as well as of their Christian faith.
In such a situation, exhortations and anathemas are
of little effect. It is necessary rather to meet one’s
adversary on his own ground, which means, in the
case at hand, to carry on the debate in the light of
50
Monopsychism
Aristotelianism and purely philosophical principles.

Thomas’ brief treatise was put into circulation in
1270, probably early in that year. It is known under
the title De imitate intellectus, although certain manu¬
scripts add to this contra Averroistas or contra Averroistas
Parisienses. Codex 225 of Corpus Christi College, Ox¬
ford, includes this valuable colophon: Haec scripsit
Thomas (ms. taliter) contra magistrum Sigerum de Bra-
bantia (ms. Barbantia) et alios plurimos Parisius in phi¬
losophic! regentes anno Domini 1270. Consultation of
Thomas’ treatise reveals many interesting points.
First of all, his exposition envisions primarily the
teaching of Averroes himself, who is often named
and whose positions are discussed. On the other
hand, in many passages Thomas speaks of his adver¬
saries in the plural and here clearly has in mind Latin
followers of the Commentator (Averroes). Finally, he
also attacks a particular Master whom he does not
name. This appears First in a passage where he seems
to have in mind a particular adversary: Quaerendum
est autem ah eo qui hoc ponit, primo, quid sit hoc singulare
quod est Socrates. . . . Et quantum ex sua positione videtur,
hoc tertium accipiet. But it should be noted that Thomas
then immediately changes to the plural: Procedamus
ergo contra eos. . . . But this reference to a particular
adversary is most evident in the treatise’s epilogue
(§122-124), where Thomas indignantly denounces
the intolerable attitude of a Master who, all the while
declaring himself to be Christian, defends positions
which are absolutely incompatible with Christian
faith. Here he repeats literally certain statements by
that Master, but his source for these has not yet been
found.
However, it does not seem that in this treatise

Thomas uses published works of the Averroist Mas¬
ters. First of all, certain passages betray some hesi¬
tation on his part concerning positions defended by
his adversaries. Thomas does not seem to have cer¬
tain and precise knowledge of their positions. More¬
over, in the closing lines of his treatise Thomas re¬
proaches his opponent for not exposing his positions
to criticism by the learned public: “Let him not speak
in corners nor in the presence of young boys (coram
pueris), who do not know how to pass judgment con¬
cerning such difficult matters. But let him reply in
writing to this treatise, if he dares.”
How is one to reconcile all of this with the literal
citations offered by Thomas in the epilogue? The
problem disappears if one acknowledges that he used
reportationes of Siger’s course or of those of other
Averroist Masters. While citing the scandalous posi¬
tions collected in these reportationes, he can also de¬
nounce the clandestine character of the teaching
which they echo.
It is generally agreed that the epilogue of the De
imitate intellectus has in mind Siger of Brabant, as the
colophon from the Oxford codex suggests. However,
the remarks which are offensive to Christianity and
which Thomas cites are not to be found in the repor-
tatio of Siger’s Quaestiones in tertium de anirna which
has come down to us. These citations could be taken
from a more complete reportatio of the same lectures,
or else from another of Siger’s courses. In any event,
it is difficult to establish with certainty that the author
of the De unitate had knowledge of the Quaestiones in
tertium de anima. All that one can say is that many
52
Monopsychism
positions defended in tins reportatio are opposed by

Thomas in his opusculum: man is a complex being
resulting from the union of the unique intellect with
a vegetative-sensitive soul which informs a body; the
intellect is united to the body as its mover, not as its
substantial form, even though this union is closer
than, that between celestial movers and that which
they move; Siger treats at length of hell-fire; finally,
he has direct knowledge of no other Peripatetics
apart from Averroes and Avicenna. Nonetheless, the
similarity between Siger’s reportatio and Thomas’
opusculum is never sufficiently great for one to be
certain that there is direct literary or textual inter¬
dependence.
Since it is morally certain that Siger of Brabant is
the Master envisioned by the epilogue of the De imi¬
tate, this page, which is one of the few in which
Thomas gives vent to his personal feelings, is at the
same time quite revealing with respect to Siger’s per¬
sonal dispositions before 1270. He speaks of the “Lat¬
ins” and of “their Law” (religion) as if he were al¬
ien to them. He doubts that monopsychism is opposed
to Christian faith. He qualifies as a “position” the
teaching of the faith. He says that God himself could
not multiply the human intellect, since such would
entail contradiction. While affirming that unicity of
the intellect is a necessary conclusion established by
human reason, he claims to hold the opposite position
as a believer. This implies that the faith has for its
object that which is false and impossible, since it con¬
tradicts that which is necessarily true. He presumes to
discuss problems which do not pertain to philosophy,
but only to faith, such as seeking to determine how
53
the separated soul can suffer from the fire of hell.

Here he rejects the views of the theologians. Finally,
he circulates his ideas in secret places (literally: in cor¬
ners) and before young boys. These criticisms fully
correspond to the rationalist and audacious attitude
of the Quaestiones in tertium de anirna.
Thomas’ anti-Averroistic treatise is of unusual
philosophical density, and detailed study of the same
would require lengthy discussion. Here I shall limit
myself to the essentials: a summary analysis, and
some reflections on the author’s doctrinal position.8
The De imitate intellectus includes an introduction
(§1-2), the corpus of the treatise (§ 3-123), and a
brief conclusion (§ 124). The corpus of this work is
divided into five chapters in the oldest manuscripts,
and this division probably goes back to St. Thomas
himself. But the work’s structure is more complex.
This becomes evident from a careful reading of the
text, since the author indicates by very clear transition
phrases the organization of his exposition. Thomas
distinguishes two fundamental aspects in the Aver-
roist position concerning the human intellect: the in¬
tellect is not the substantial form of the body; and not
being its substantial form, the intellect cannot be mul¬
tiplied in individuals, but is unique for the entire hu-
8 L. W. Keeler published in 1936 a very good and almost critical

edition of this treatise: Sancti Thermae Aquinatis tractatus de imitate intel¬
lectus. Earlier editions are not to be used. See F. Van Steenberghen, La
philosophie au XIIle siecle, Philosophes medievaux IX (Louvain-Paris,
1966), p. 432, n. 36. The De unitate intellectus has recently appeared in
the Leonine edition (v. 43, pp. 243-314, 1976), but I shall cite from the
Keeler edition for the reader’s convenience. Also cf. F. Van Steen¬
berghen, “Corrections au texte du De unitate intellectus de Thomas
d’Aquin,” Bulletin de philosophie medievale 19 (1977), pp. 65-67.
54
Monopsychism
man race. These two mistaken positions on Averroes’

part give rise to the general division of Thomas’ trea¬
tise.
The Prooemium supplies some indications concern¬
ing the origins and the extent of the Averroist move¬
ment (§1, 6-7), alludes to Thomas’ earlier writings
against the teaching of Averroes (§1, 12-13), and in¬
dicates that the present exposition is to be purely
philosophical, based on a critical exegesis of Aristotle
(§2, 17-31).
The first part of the body or corpus (cc. I-111, §3-
85) includes an exegetical section (cc. I-1I) and a phil¬
osophical section (c. III). In the exegetical section
Thomas first undertakes to interpret the major pas¬
sages of Aristotle’s Dc anima where his teaching on
the intellect is presented. And he attempts to show by
skillful commentary that Aristotle’s text excludes the
Averroist interpretation (§ 3-26). In support of his
reading of the De anima he cites a text from the Physics
in order to present more precisely the Aristotelian
view of hierarchy of forms. The human soul is the
highest of the forms united to matter, since it has a
power of operation, the intellect, which is not joined
to a corporeal organ. It is in this sense that the intel¬
lect is said to be “separate,” and not in Averroes’
meaning, who would make of it a separate substance
(§ 27-30). Continuing his exegesis of Aristotle,
Thomas rejects the arguments drawn by the Aver-
roists from the immortality of the intellect (§ 31-43),
and then those that they base on the intellect's origin
(§ 44-50).
This explanation of Aristotle’s texts is followed by
a complementary investigation (c. II) of the Creek
(§ 51-56) and Arabic (§ 57-58) Peripatetic school.

Thomas shows that Themistius, Theophrastus, and
Alexander of Aphrodisias among the Greeks, and
Avicenna and Algazel among the Arabs viewed the
intellect as a power of the soul, not as a separate sub¬
stance. He dwells with satisfaction on Themistius’
commentary and reproduces lengthy passages there¬
from. He was the first to make use of the recent trans¬
lation of this work by William of Moerbeke, and is
evidently delighted to oppose the authentic Themis¬
tius to that presented by Averroes’ commentary.
This lengthy exegetical section ends with a celebrated
conclusion (§ 59) where Aquinas condemns the Ar-
istotelianism of Averroes, “who was not so much a
Peripatetic as a corruptor of Peripatetic philosophy”
(quam philosophiae peripateticae depravator).
The philosophical section of the first part (c. Ill)
includes an exposition of arguments whereby one can
show that the intellective soul is man’s substantial
form (§ 60-82), and then a refutation of the objec¬
tions formulated by the Averroists (§ 83-85). T he
positive exposition dwells at length on the basic ar¬
gument, taken from Aristotle, which turns on an un¬
deniable datum of consciousness (§ 62, 22): hie homo
singularis intelligit (“This individual man under¬
stands”). Thomas shows that neither Averroes’ ex¬
planation (§ 63-66) nor that offered by certain Aver¬
roists (§ 67-79) can account for this inescapable fact.
After this major argument, which is of a psychological
nature, come two complementary arguments: one
based on considerations of a logical nature concerning
the human species (§ 80); and one based on exigen¬
cies pertaining to the moral order (§ 81-82). His cri-
Monopsychism
tique of the Averroist objections serves as an occasion

for Thomas to identify the human soul as a form of
matter {forma materiae), but not a material form {forma
materialis). Hence it falls between purely material
forms and separate forms (§ 83-85).
d'he second part of the corpus (cc. IV-V, § 86-
123) takes up the second aspect of the Averroistic
position: unicity of the intellect for all mankind. After
indicating the exact subject of the debate (§ 86),
Thomas divides his exposition into two sections, one
positive and one negative. In the first he attempts to
show that unicity of the possible intellect raises in¬
surmountable difficulties (§ 87-98). And in the sec¬
ond he refutes the objections raised by the Averroists
(c. V, § 99-123).
Unicity of the intellect leads to absurd conse¬
quences (§ 87-91). Only one man would exist (§87,
21-25), or at least only one intelligent being in all of
humanity (§ 89, 62-63). Consequently, only one
being would enjoy a will (§ 89, 63-73). Finally, there
could only be one act of understanding with respect
to one and the same object (§ 90-91). All of these
consequences run counter to human experience. But
unicity of the intellect is also incompatible with Ar¬
istotle’s teaching, and here Thomas completes the
exegesis which he had presented in the first part (§
92-98).
I he objections considered by Thomas are five in
number. The first includes, in addition to the major
difficulty, a secondary one which the Averroists pres¬
ent as following from the first one (§ 99-105).
Thomas’ discussion of this fundamental objection is
one of the high points ot his treatise. It is here that
one also finds a passage which has already given rise

to extended controversy between different interpret¬
ers of Aquinas (see: Vaide autem ruditer). After this
twofold objection bearing on the nature of the intel¬
lective soul, another objection, based on the nature of
intellectual activity, affords Thomas the opportunity
of presenting a remarkable exposition on the realism
of human knowledge and on the way knowledge is
communicated to others (§ 106-113). The third ob¬
jection is based on the finality of spiritual substances
(§ 114-116). The fourth, joined with the hypothesis
of eternity of the world and of species, attempts to
show that if the intellective soul were multiplied nu¬
merically as are individual human beings, this would
result in an infinity of separated souls, which is re¬
jected as impossible (§ 117-118). The last objection,
which appeals to the authority of the Greek and Ar¬
abic Peripatetics, is turned against the Averroists.
Algazel and Avicenna, Themistius, Theophrastus,
Aristotle and even Plato himself, all admitted of a
plurality of human intellects. Once more Thomas
comments that Averroes should be referred to as a
“corruptor of Peripatetic philosophy” (§ 119-121).
Thomas immediately extends his attack against
Averroes to the Latin Averroists and especially to one
of tnose, who remains unnamed, but from whom
Thomas reproduces in order to stigmatize certain
daring remarks which can only be regarded as re¬
volting when uttered by a Christian (§ 122-123).
In his treatise’s brief conclusion Thomas recalls
that he has refuted Averroism according to strictly
philosophical procedures, without basing his case on
the authority of faith. He then hurls a challenge at
58
Monopsychism
his foes and invites them to reply to him, if they dare,

rather than circulate their views in secret and before
young boys who are incapable of critically evaluating
such difficult problems. And he promises that they
will encounter stiff opposition from many defenders
of truth (§ 124).
This violent reaction to which the De mutate bears
witness is to be accounted for, undoubtedly, by the
grave threat which Averroism posed for Christian
faith. But it also betrays on Thomas’ part a desire to
dispute with Averroes his claim to be a follower of
Aristotle, whom he had compromised, and to pre¬
serve for Christian thought the essentials of the Per¬
ipatetic legacy.
What is one to say of Thomas’ exegesis of Aristotle
in comparison with that of Averroes? A detailed in¬
vestigation would be required in order for one to
reply adequately to this question. But in the main,
one may say this. Averroes draws the consequences
which are logically implied by Aristotle’s metaphysics
when one tries to resolve the problem of the nature
of the intellect. Thomas bases his case on psycholog¬
ical analyses and on empirical data offered by Aris¬
totle with respect to intellectual activity, and shows
that these data and analyses imply his (Thomas’) view
of the intellect. Each exploits those texts which sup¬
port his interpretation. Each leaves to the side those
which create difficulties for him. And each interprets
obscure passages in a way which supports his position.
The literal commentary on the texts from Aristotle
in the/)c imitate intellectus is usually faithful and quite
penetrating. But it imposes on Aristotle, in an ingen¬
ious and persuasive manner, an impeccable logical
consistency in the development of his ideas and the

acceptance of the consequences of his statements, all
the while leaving to the side the difficulties which this
“Thomistic” interpretation raises within the general
framework of his system. Averroes does the same
thing, but in the opposite direction.
For example, let us compare the two with respect
to one passage from the De anima.9 In saying that the
intellect is a “perpetual” reality, Aristotle undoubt¬
edly opposes it before all else to other “parts” of the
soul, which are corruptible. But in stating that the
intellect is incorruptible, he recognizes that its exis¬
tence is not tied to that of the body and of other
“parts” of the soul. But he does not say anything
here about the ontological status of the intellect.
Averroes and Thomas agree that, for Aristotle, the
intellect survives the death of the individual human
being. But within the framework of the Stagirite’s
metaphysics, a perpetual and immaterial reality —
which is separable from the body — can only be a
separate substance. Averroes says as much. Thomas
avoids taking this step.
To what degree does the De unitate intellectus suc¬
cessfully meet the difficulties raised by Averroism in
connection with a metaphysical study of the problem
of man?
In this discussion a number of points are held in
common by both parties: divine causality, the univer¬
sal source of being; the doctrine of potency and act
with its diverse applications; the hylemorphic theory
in its original purity; the distinction between sub-
9 See Aristotle, De anima II, c. 2 (413b 26-27); Averroes, De anima,

II, comm. 21; Thomas Aquinas, De unitate intellectus, §8-9.
60
Monopsychism
stance and accidents; and Aristotle’s physics. And as

regards the problem of man, Thomas and the Aver-
roists accept the biological views of the Stagirite, the
existence in man of a soul which is the substantial
form of the body, the immateriality of the intellect
and its transcendence with respect to corporeal activ¬
ities, the existence of an agent intellect, and the doc¬
trine of abstraction. The debate is clearly circum¬
scribed, therefore. It has to do with determining the
nature of the intellect or of the principle of intellectual
activity, its exact relationship with individual human
beings, and as a consequence, its multiplication in in¬
dividuals, its origin, and its future destiny.
Within Aristotle’s philosophy an immaterial sub¬
stance is one which escapes from the conditions of
matter and the vicissitudes of cosmic evolution. It can
only be eternal, unbegotten, and incorruptible. How
could it begin to be at a given moment in time, since
it cannot result from natural generation? Hence, if
the nous is an immaterial substance, how could it be¬
gin to exist at the moment when an individual human
being begins his earthly career as the result of a bi¬
ological process of procreation? And if it preexists as
a separate substance, how can it serve as the substan¬
tial form of matter and be multiplied numerically as
are material forms? It is easy to understand why Ar¬
istotle remains silent with respect to these problems.
At first glance, Averroes and the Latin Averroists
have at their disposition a new and extremely impor¬
tant element for the solution of these difficulties,
since they recognize God’s creative causality. One
would think, therefore, that the idea of a spiritual
soul which is called into existence by creation at the
61
moment when a new biological individual member of

the human species comes into being would not be
inaccessible to them. This solution completely escapes
them, however, for reasons which must be identified
in each particular case, but which may be traced back
to the following. On the one hand, their excessive
reliance on the Aristotelian framework leads them to
accept without reservation a dualistic view of the
universe which sharply opposes the world of spiritual
substances and that of corporeal substances. On the
other hand and especially, serious weaknesses in their
understanding of creative causality prevent them
from adopting the solution of Thomas Aquinas. For
them every immediate effect of the First Cause is
eternal and unchangeable. All “novelty” in reality
is to be explained by the development proper to the
material universe. The appearance of new immaterial
substances is no more conceivable here than in the
original Aristotelianism. Thus the Averroists find
themselves being carried along the same path as Ar¬
istotle himself, and this in spite of the superiority of
their metaphysics to that of the Philosopher.
When one examines Thomas’ reaction in his De
imitate intellectus, one is surprised to observe that he
never raises the problem explicitly from the stand¬
point of creative causality and does not directly crit¬
icize the weaknesses of his adversaries with respect to
this. Did he not grasp this important aspect of the
issue? Or was he poorly informed about the meta¬
physical principles of Siger and his group so as not
to appreciate the crux of their difficulties. Perhaps.
But another explanation seems to be more likely.
Thomas was well aware of the weaknesses of Aristo-
62
Monopsychism
telianism in metaphysics. Being deeply concerned

with preserving Peripatetic thought in its essential in¬
sights and to correct it where necessary, it may be
that he chose not to conduct the debate on the me¬
taphysical level so as to avoid presenting Aristotle in
a bad light, an Aristotle who was already sufficiently
compromised by Averroes.
Be that as it may, Thomas Aquinas adopts another
method, or if you will, another tactic in his battle
against Averroism. He poses the problem of the in¬
tellect on the level of psychological experience. “For
it is evident that this individual man understands. We
would never inquire concerning the intellect unless
we understood” (§ 62, 21-23). Starting from this
undeniable datum of consciousness, he establishes
with all the logical rigor of Aristotelian principles that
the intellect is an operative power whose substantial
principle is, to be sure, an immaterial reality, but at
the same time man’s substantial form. This principle
is the intellective or human soul, the unique source
of all of man’s operations. A form of matter, the hu¬
man soul is not a material form. It is not precontained
within the potentialities of matter and its appearance
cannot be explained, even on the level of second
causes, by the laws of cosmic evolution. It is created
by God at the term of the generation of man. As a
form of matter, the human soul is individuated by its
relationship to this determined matter, since this re¬
lationship is essential to its constitution. For the hu¬
man soul is created as the substantial form of this
given human organism. Consequently, it is no more
difficult to account for a multiplicity of human souls
within the human species than it is to account for
multiplicity of other substantial forms. A form of mat¬

ter, the human soul is also an immaterial form, which
intrinsically transcends the material order. Being ca¬
pable of inorganic operation, it can subsist without its
body, since operation is an expression of being. Man
subsists, to be sure, but the human soul subsists in
man and accounts for the fact that the human com¬
posite subsists. Finally, being a subsistent form and
independent from the conditions of matter, the hu¬
man soul does not cease to subsist when the human
organism is corrupted. The human soul survives de¬
struction of the composite and lives on in terms of its
reality, its individuality, and its activity, granted that
the conditions for its activity are greatly modified in
its separated state.
Such is, in the main, the solution proposed by the
De unitcite to the problem of the intellective soul. Its
argumentation is irrefutable for any Aristotelian who
accepts the initial datum: “This individual man un¬
derstands.” The Averroists will soon have to take
this into account. But the De unitate’s influence would
have surely been more decisive if its author had dis¬
cussed in greater depth the metaphysical difficulties
which were troubling the Averroists and which may
be reduced to this fundamental question: How can
a spiritual and subsistent form be at one and the same
time the substantial form of a body? The objection is
clearly formulated in the De imitate. It is not acciden¬
tal to a substantial form to be united to matter, but
its relationship to matter is essential. Consequently, if
the body is corrupted, the soul which is its substantial
form must also disappear with it.10 In other words,
10 De unitate intellectus, §32. The difficulty reappears under other
forms farther on in the work. See §83-84 and §99-i00.
64
Monopsychism
the substantial form is essentially a co-principle and

therefore cannot even be conceived without its cor¬
relative principle. A substantial form is intrinsically
constituted by its relationship to matter, and it is in
its union with such determined matter that it finds
the reason for its subsistence and its individuality. In
a word, the Averroists do not admit of any possible
intermediary between a material form and a subsist¬
ing form, between a form which is a principle of
being and a form which is a complete and immaterial
substance.
In order to resolve this formulation of the problem
Thomas once more falls back upon the solid ground
of psychological experience and, from an analysis of
certain vital activities, concludes to the existence of
two kinds of hylemorphic composites. In the first type
it is the composite which subsists and the form is
nothing but a principle by which the composite subsists
(huiusmodi formae ipsae quidern proprie loquendo non sunt,
sed eis aliquid est [§ 37, 76-78]). In the second type,
that is to say, in human composites, it is the form
which possesses being (or subsistence) and the com¬
posite which subsists by reason of the form (ipsa est
quae habet esse, nee est per esse compositi tantum, sicut aliae
formae, sed rnagis compositum est per esse eius [§ 38]).
From this it follows that the human soul can subsist
without its body. It can, therefore, be found succes¬
sively under the condition of a substantial form and
under that of a separated form.
In light of these explanations, Thomas now judges
himself to be in position to reply briefly to the dif fi¬
culty raised above. It is essential to the soul to be
united to the body, he says, but this union is impeded
per accidens when the body dissolves and disappears

(§ 43, 138-40). One would expect from him some
explanation for this surprising statement, but an ex¬
ample taken from Aristotelian physics is offered in¬
stead: . .just as it pertains per se to a light thing to
be up . . . yet it may happen because of some hin¬
drance that it is not up” (§ 43, 140-143). However,
a comparison is not an argument. He should have
shown in what sense it is no more “essential” to the
soul for it to be united to the body than it is to a light
body for it to occupy its natural place. In order to do
this it would be necessary for him to distinguish be¬
tween the original constitution of the soul in its status
as a substantial form at the terminus of human gen¬
eration and its subsequent existence. It is essential to
the human soul for it to be created in a body and for a
body at the terminus of generatiort/^Vithout this it
would not be a substantial form but an angelic form
and therefore subsistent and unique in its species/It
is not essential for this same soul to remain united to the
body because, once it has been constituted in its real¬
ity and its individuality, since it can subsist alone it no
longer depends essentially on its co-principle. In
brief, here Thomas should have taken up the theme
of creation of the soul. Without this the existence of
a form which is both substantial and subsistent is in¬
conceivable. He did not do this, for reasons which
remain unknown to us.11 Perhaps, as I have sug¬
gested, he did not wish to shift the debate to the level
of creative causality, where Aristotle’s position is so
11 St. Thomas had discussed this question in earlier works. See for
instance, De potentia, q. 3, aa. 9-11.
66
Monopsychism
weak. But it may be that neither Thomas nor his ad¬

versaries clearly recognized that the heart of the dif¬
ficulty and the fundamental reason for their dis¬
agreement was to be found at this level. The hindsight
afforded by history enables us to see more clearly the
conditions of the controversy.12
Ill
In the third part of this lecture I would like to
attempt to reply briefly to two questions: 1) By his
anthropology has Thomas Aquinas adequately re¬
solved the difficulties raised by the Averroists? 2) Is
his anthropology still satisfying for twentieth-century
man?
As regards the first question one could reply by
studying the Averroist writings subsequent to
Thomas’ De imitate intellectus which are more or less
directly replies to that treatise. Let us limit ourselves
to one example, which tells much about the reaction
of an intelligent Averroist: Siger of Brabant’s re¬
markable little treatise De anima intellection, written ca.
1273 and, therefore, approximately three years after
Thomas’ work.1:1
Clearly Siger was not convinced by the argumen¬
tation whereby Thomas had wished to prove that the
intellective soul is man’s substantial form. Siger is
unable to admit that an immaterial soul is substan¬
tially united to matter. That would be to reduce it to
12 For more complete analysis of the De imitate intellectus see F. Van

Steenberghen, Maitre Siger de Brabant, pp. 347-60.
13 See B. Ba/.an, Siger de Brabant. Quaestiones in tertiurn de anima. De
anima intellectiva. De aeternitate mundi, pp. 70-1 12. tor the discussion on
the nature of the soul see ch. Ill, pp. 77-88.
67
the level of a material form, and this would lead to

two unacceptable consequences. Abstract intellectual
knowledge would become impossible, and the im¬
mortality of the soul would be compromised since a
material form is essentially united to matter and dis¬
appears when the composite is destroyed.
However, St. Thomas had stressed that a form of
matter is not necessarily a material form which would
lack any subsistence of its own. And he had avoided
the two consequences drawn by Siger. He avoided the
first, according to which abstract intellectual knowl¬
edge would be impossible, by distinguishing between
the soul and its power of operation. The soul is the
form of the body and therefore immediately united
to matter, but its power of operation, the intellect, is
an inorganic power, that is to say, a power that op¬
erates without a corporeal organ. It can, therefore,
receive abstract and universal ideas. To the second
difficulty, the alleged denial of immortality, he had
replied in advance by conceding that it is essential to
a substantial form to be united to matter, but that this
union can be impeded in accidental fashion {per ac-
cidens) by reason of the body’s disappearance. And
he had justified this possibility by the comparison
taken from Aristotelian physics. It is essential for a
light body to be up, that is to say, in its “natural
place,” but it may happen that such a body is held
down by some obstacle.
Siger does not find these explanations acceptable.
To the first he replies that a power of operation can¬
not be more immaterial than that substance from
which it flows. He does not reply expressly to the
second, but one can be certain that he would not ac-
68
Monopsychism
cept this comparison, and one can understand why.

For a light body to “be up” is clearly a property that
follows from its essence (according to the ancient
physics), but it is a property of an accidental nature
that can be countered in a “violent" manner by an
external obstacle. But to “be united with matter”
appears to be the very essence of a substantial form.
What is one to say of these replies? The First is not
well grounded, for St. Thomas had explicitly dealt
with this difficulty: “If one should object,” he says,
“that a power of the soul cannot be more immaterial
or more simple than the soul’s essence, this objection
would hold if the human soul were a simple material
form, and totally dependent on matter. But the hu¬
man soul possesses its own being and the dignity of
this form transcends the capacity of matter” (De imi¬
tate intellectus, §84). In other words, St. Thomas ac¬
cepts without reservation the principle on which the
objection rests. An operative power cannot be more
perfect than the substance from which it emanates,
according to the well known axiom: agere sequitur for-
mam (“action is proportioned to substantial form”).
As regards Siger’s second reply, it deserves more
attention, for the analogy with a light body was cer¬
tainly inadequate, as I have just shown. In my opinion
Thomas should have formulated his reply differently
and said that it is not essential to the human soul to
be united to matter, but it is essential to it to be created
in matter and for matter. In other words, in order to
justify the status of a soul which is the form of matter
without being a material form, one must appeal to the
notion of creation. The human soul must be created
for a determined body and be individuated by its es-
sential relation to that body. Without this it would be

a separate substance, a pure spirit. But it is created
as an immaterial and subsistent form. Without this it
would be a purely material and corruptible form.
This doctrine of the creation of the human soul is
in perfect conformity with St. Thomas’ thought and
is presented in many of his writings. It is clearly pre¬
supposed and even hinted at in many passages in his
De imitate intellectus, but this theme of creation of the
soul is never explicitly introduced there, and this may
be the major reason for Siger’s resistance to that
work.
Let us now consider the second question: Is
Thomas’ anthropology still satisfying today?
A first remark is obvious. His anthropology is pri¬
marily a metaphysical or ontological interpretation of
human nature. Hence it is without meaning or value
for those who reject metaphysical knowledge as a
mere intellectual game, a mental construction without
meaning. I cannot here enter into a discussion of the
nature and value of metaphysics. Personally, I am
well aware of the limits and the difficulties of me-
taempirical know ledge. I am also convinced of its rich
possibilities, and of the value of its methods and con¬
clusions. If one takes this as given, then what is one
to think of Thomas Aquinas’ understanding of hu¬
man nature?
In my opinion this view answers perfectly to the
data of psychological experience and, to my knowl¬
edge, no better interpretation has been proposed
since the thirteenth century. But this does not mean
that the Thomistic anthropology was definitively and
perfectly worked out in the thirteenth century. It can
70
Monopsychism
and should be perfected and developed in many di¬

rections, and I would like to suggest some ways in
which this should be done.
1. The demonstration of the spirituality of the soul. St.
Thomas is, perhaps, too dependent on Aristotle on
this point. Certain characteristics of thinking, over¬
looked by the Stagirite, reveal more clearly than those
he has used that this activity is not, in itself, organic
in nature. For instance, my knowledge of the past as
past, of the future as future, of the absent as absent.
I think of Kant as a person who lived in the eigh¬
teenth century. I speak of the world’s population in
the year 2000. I “represent” to myself Pope Paul
VI, but I know that he is in Rome, three thousand
miles from here. It is absolutely impossible for one
to account for these facts by appealing to purely or¬
ganic knowledge.
2. The demonstration of the soul’s immortality. Many
psychologists today reject the notion of the soul’s
survival while insisting that all of our activities, even
the noblest, are conditioned by the state of our or¬
ganism. Thus a brain lesion may interfere with our
intellectual activity and even put an end to out con¬
scious life. This is an evident fact, and one of which
Thomas was well aware. He taught not only that we
are unable to know intellectually without the aid of
sense and imagination, but that even after we have
acquired ideas, we cannot make use of them without
the concurrence of images. Even more, we cannot
formulate a perfect judgment, bearing on reality,
without the concurrence of sense experience (SI,
Prima Pars, q. 84, aa. 7, 8). But according to him
these are conditions required for human thinking
/
which result from the union of the soul with the body.
This does not prevent the soul, as an immaterial and
subsistent form, from being capable of surviving the
death of the human composite. It will then begin a
new life in its state as a “separated soul” and will
have a natural activity suitable for that state.
It will undoubtedly be possible to establish with
greater force the immortality of the soul as necessar¬
ily following from its spiritual nature. But one may
also find confirmation for this thesis in the doctrine
(even the philosophical doctrine) of divine Provi¬
dence. The wisdom, justice, and goodness of the Cre¬
ator require that personal creatures, being both con¬
scious and responsible and having an end in and for
themselves, enjoy an imperishable existence. These
same divine perfections also require that the moral
order be respected, that good and evil, obviously not
receiving their just deserts here below, receive them
in the life to come.
3. In many places in his writings St. Thomas describes
the nature of the human soul in rather strange language,
at least at first sight. In matter-form composites below
man, he says, being (esse) pertains to the composite
alone, while the composing principles (matter and
form) exist only by reason of the being of the com¬
posite. But in the case of man, being first pertains to
the soul, while the composite “participates” in the
being of the soul. This teaching surely expresses in
striking fashion the unusual status of the human soul
among substantial forms. But one could get the
impression that it was only a case of special plead¬
ing. There is need, therefore, to present the mean¬
ing of this teaching more precisely and to show that
Monopsychism
it is indeed demanded by the empirical data which

ground his anthropology.
4. Thomists today are faced with a great task: the
confrontation of their anthropology with the findings of the
human sciences, especially of positive psychology. Since
St. Thomas’ doctrine claims to be a rigorous meta¬
physical interpretation of psychological experience,
there is good reason to believe that this confrontation
will make manifest the perfect harmony of these two
regions of human knowing.
5. Finally, considerable effort should be made in
order to express correctly St. Thomas’ anthropology.
This requires some explanation. I mentioned above
that Thomas’ predecessors made use of an Aristo¬
telian terminology in order to formulate their clual-
istic anthropology, the latter being inspired by Plato
and St. Augustine. And I have observed that this ter¬
minology could give rise to inaccurate interpreta¬
tions. We find ourselves faced with a similar situation
in the case of St. Thomas, but in the opposite direc¬
tion. He often expresses his Aristotelian anthropol¬
ogy in dualistic terms. Such happens whenever he
refers to the soul as the “form of the body” forma
corporis), whereas one should rather speak of the
“form of matter” forma materiae). For the body is
that concrete, extended reality that we perceive
through the senses. It is not to the body but to prime
matter that the soul is united as substantial form. It
should also be noted here that almost all of Christian
literature in the fields of theology, morality, and spir¬
ituality is dualistic in its language and often in its
thought. This is unfortunate since such language is
inaccurate and fails to correspond to the conclusions
of the human sciences. Thomists should, therefore,
strive to correct these dualistic expressions in the
writings of the Angelic Doctor. This is an important
task if one wishes to bring out the value of the re¬
markable doctrine that serves as the foundation of
his anthropology.
74
THE THIRD LECTURE
RATIONALISM
i
Until the end of the twelfth century the organiza¬
tion of studies in the Christian world was dominated
by the Augustinian conception of “Christian Wis¬
dom” as St. Augustine himself had presented it in
his De doctrina Christiana. According to this view all
areas of profane knowledge were to be placed at the
service of sacred science, that is, theology or the sci¬
entific study of divine revelation accepted on faith.
This is the reason why the schools of liberal arts were
viewed as preparatory schools, providing a general
formation that was indispensable for those entering
the advanced fields of study: theology, law or medi¬
cine. Philosophy was almost completely missing from
this organization of studies, since, of all the philo¬
sophical disciplines known in the ancient world, only
logic held a place in the program of the schools of
liberal arts. Furthermore, since law and medicine
were directed toward professional and practical ends,
theology alone offered a scientific view of the uni¬
verse, its origin and its destiny. In short, the Christian
view of the world dominated, without competition,
the intellectual life of the period.
Eliis situation changed rapidly from the start of the
thirteenth century. Translations from Arabic to Latin
and from Cheek to Latin introduced into the Chris¬
tian world a vast amount of non-Christian literature,
among which the writings of Aristotle held a preem-
inent place. These Aristotelian writings were accom¬

panied at first by Arabic commentaries, and some¬
what later by Greek ones. As I have already indicated
in my preceding lectures, Aristotle’s intellectual
achievement made a deep impression on the Latin
Masters. For them his work was the revelation of a
scientific encyclopedia unknown until that time. The
Philosopher now presented himself to them with all
the prestige of a man of universal knowledge and an
imposing view of the cosmos.
It was not long before the earlier structure of the
Arts Faculty at Paris began to change. The logica nova
(that part of the Organon or of Aristotle’s logical trea¬
tises which had remained unknown until then) was
introduced there, and then the Ethics. After lengthy
resistance on the part of Church authorities, all the
known writings of the Stagirite were given a place in
the program of studies of that Faculty by a decree of
March 19, 1255. This list even included three pseudo-
Aristotelian (i.e., inauthentic) works, theZ> causis, the
De plantis, and the De differentia spiritus et animae. From
that time forward the Faculty of Arts had become in
fact a philosophy faculty. And Aristotle’s philosophy
was taught there in its entirety.
It is clear that this new situation carried with it a
serious danger for the unity of Christian thought, or
if one prefers, the threat of rationalism. For the Mas¬
ters in the Faculty of Arts began to attach ever greater
importance to their vocation as philosophers, and
their admiration for Aristotle continued to grow. Yet
Greek and Arabic philosophy was, in many areas, in
open contradiction with Christian thought. The Phi¬
losopher defended eternity of the world and of every
76
Rationalism
species, including the human race. His anthropology

was obscure on many points, and Averroes, the Com¬
mentator par excellence, had interpreted him as de¬
fending monopsychism, which would destroy the
personality, responsibility, and immortality of human
individuals. His ethics did not know of man’s ulti¬
mate end in the life hereafter. Avicenna had de¬
fended a Neoplatonic metaphysics of emanation
which included creation and providential care of the
world through intermediary entities. Finally, many
non-Christian philosophical teachings carried with
them a decidedly deterministic accent.
Thus the Christian Masters in the Arts Faculty were
soon faced with two profoundly different views of the
universe. It was almost inevitable that some would
come to the point of preferring the non-Christian
view and of adopting a rationalistic and naturalistic
vision of the universe. If this attitude developed, it
would bring with it the threat of Neopaganism and
would cause a tragic split within the intellectual unity
of Christianity. All of the great theologians of the
thirteenth century were aware of this danger, and
each reacted in the way that appeared to him to be
the most suitable or most demanded by the urgency
of the situation. This is true of Bonaventure, Albert
the Great, Roger Bacon, Thomas Aquinas, and later
on, Raymond Lull.1
II
With this general picture of the “crisis" of the
thirteenth century before us, we must now ask our-
1 On the crisis of the thirteenth century see F. Van Steenberghen,
Aristotle in the West, pp. 59-146 and 198-208.
77
Fernand Va?i Steenberghen
selves some more precise questions. Are there in fact

any signs of a rationalist current in the thirteenth
century? When and under what forms did it appear?
Was Thomas Aquinas aware of this rationalist thrust
during his final sojourn in Paris, that is, from 1269
until 1272?
Let us note immediately that we possess very little
direct evidence of such a current of rationalism before
the Condemnation of December 10, 1270. T hat is to
say, we have very few documents in which any Mas¬
ters from the Arts Faculty betray a rationalist men¬
tality. Before examining these direct indications,
however, let us first pause and consider some indirect
signs pointing to this rationalist tendency. The first
of our indirect witnesses is St. Bonaventure, who in
1257 became Minister General (General Superior) of
the Franciscans. In 1267 and 1268 he preached the
Lenten sermons at the Franciscan church in Paris.
Now these sermons show for the first time the exis¬
tence of rationalist tendencies in the Arts Faculty. Let
us examine them more closely.
In 1267 Bonaventure took as his theme the ten
commandments (De decern praeceptis). In these ser¬
mons he denounces the threat which was growing in
the ranks of the Arts Faculty. He condemns many
heretical doctrines being taught there, and offers as
the first reason for these doctrinal deviations “the
improper use of philosophical inquiry.” In conclu¬
sion he exhorts his listeners to remain faithful to the
teachings of Christian revelation. Now what is this
“improper use of philosophical inquiry?” The his¬
torical context allows us to account for the great Fran¬
ciscan preacher’s judgment in the following way.
78
Rationalism
Captivated by the philosophy of Aristotle, certain
Masters of Arts lost sight of the role and place of
philosophy in the ensemble of Christian wisdom.
They regarded philosophy as an independent knowl¬
edge and pursued it without any concern for Chris¬
tian orthodoxy. The sermons De decern praeceptis per¬
mit us to state that certain heretical teachings were
already being circulated early in 1267.
In the following year, 1268, Bonaventure preached
on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit (De donis Spiritus Sancti)
and once again he condemned various doctrines from
non-Christian philosophy. In his fourth sermon, de¬
voted to the gift of knowledge, he places his audience
on guard against rationalism. For the Christian, he
states, philosophy can only be a stage in the search
for complete truth, since it cannot provide an ade¬
quate solution to problems concerning man’s des¬
tiny. He who stops with philosophy as sufficient wis¬
dom falls into the shadows of darkness. Nowf this is
precisely the blind route pursued by the rationalist
when he disregards the higher light of divine reve¬
lation.2
Bonaventure, however, is not the only witness to
this situation. There is no doubt that from the mo¬
ment of his return to Paris in January, 1269, 1 homas
Aquinas was informed about the dangerous situation
in the Faculty of Arts. He quickly recognized the se¬
riousness of the errors that certain Masters were
teaching there. He was especially struck by one par¬
ticularly dangerous doctrine, Averroist monopsych¬
ism. As we have already seen, he published his cele-
2 On Bonaventure’s interventions in 1267 and 1268 see F. Van
Steenberghen, MaUre Siger de Brabant, pp. 33-46.
brated De unitate intellectus early in 1270. On the last

page of that treatise Thomas clearly denounces the
rationalist attitude of a certain Master, who, while not
named, is almost certainly Siger of Brabant. Refer¬
ence has been made to a colophon or note in an Ox¬
ford manuscript of this work indicating that it was
written against Siger and other Regent Masters at
Paris in the year 1270.3
As we have also seen above, in this final page
Thomas seems to be citing textually from a document
he had before his eyes. The author of this document
speaks of “Latins” and “Catholics” as though he
were not one of them. “T he Latins,” he tells us, “do
not admit the thesis of monopsychism because their
law perhaps teaches the contrary.” Or again, “this is
the reason why Catholics seem to hold their posi¬
tion.” The same author then declares that by using
reason he necessarily concludes that the intellect is
unique. Yet he firmly holds the opposed position be¬
cause offaith. Finally, he dares dispute about matters
which are not proper to the domain of philosophy,
but belong rather to the realm of pure faith. For ex¬
ample, he discusses the fire of hell, and says that the
teachings of the theologians with respect to this are
to be rejected.4
Such strong statements indicate very clearly the ra¬
tionalist attitude of the Master whom Aquinas has in
mind. That Master speaks as if he were a stranger to
the Church. He regards as a necessary conclusion of
reason something which contradicts the faith. And he
3 See L. W. Keeler, Sancti Thomae Aquinatis tractatus de unitate intellectus

contra averroistas, p. XII.
4 Ibid., pp. 78-80.
80
Rationalism
goes so far as to discuss in philosophy topics which

belong strictly to sacred science. This attitude is much
more radical and particularly more aggressive than
that of Siger in the writings which have been found
until the present time and which we are now going
to consider. For these writings of Siger are the major
direct witnesses of the rationalist tendency in the Arts
Faculty before 1270.
As we have seen above, we have in our possession
today two heterodox works of the Master from Bra¬
bant which are prior to the Condemnation of 1270:
his Quaestiones in tertium de anima, and his Quaestio
utrum haec sit vera: “homo est animal”, nullo homine ex¬
ist e riteIn these two writings Siger professes some
positions which are clearly heretical: eternity of the
world and of the human species; unicity of the hu¬
man intellect; and as a consequence, denial of a fu¬
ture life for human individuals. He professes these
heresies without any apparent concern for revealed
truth. In fact, he closes his eyes to Christianity and
thereby sidesteps any problem of reconciling faith
and reason. Thus in his Quaestiones in tertium de anima,
we have seen that when he discusses the temporal or
eternal origin of the intellect, he does not oppose the
solution of faith to that of reason, but rather that of
Augustine to that of Aristotle, whom he favors. Far¬
ther on he takes up a question which he characterizes
as “not very philosophical” (non multum philosophica),
namely whether the soul when separated from the
body can suffer from fire (a clear allusion to the lire
of hell). He discusses and resolves this without wor-
5 See above, pp. 6-8 and 35.
81
rying himself about contradicting Christian teaching.

It must be noted, however, that one does not find in
these writings, at least in the form in which they have
come down to us, any attack against the faith, or any
explicit profession of rationalism. The problem is
simply ignored or at least passed over in silence.
Another direct witness to rationalist tendencies was
examined by my late colleague and former student,
Professor Maurice Giele, who died in 1966. This is
the Questions on Books I and II of the De anirna, a work
by a Master who until now remains unknown. These
Questions probably date from 1270. They are certainly
after the De unitate intellectus of St. Thomas and prob¬
ably before the Condemnation of December 10, 1270.
The author holds to a radical Averroism, since he
maintains that, properly speaking, man does not
think. But here again the requirements of Christian
orthodoxy are simply ignored. The unknown Master
professes a de facto rationalism, without ever taking
up the problem of the relationship between faith and
reason.6
On December 10, 1270, Stephen Tempier, the
Bishop of Paris, condemned thirteen propositions
judged to be heretical. They correspond in large
measure with the positions denounced by Bonaven-
ture in his sermons of 1267 and 1268. Nonetheless,
the episcopal decree does not speak of the rationalist
attitude which is at the root of these errors.7
Such, then, are the direct and indirect indications
we have today concerning the existence of a ratio-
6 See F. Van Steenberghen, Maitre Sign de Brabant, pp. 65-70.

7 Ibid., pp. 74-79.
82
Rationalism
nalist current of thought in the Faculty of Arts at

Paris before 1270.
Ill
What was the reaction of Thomas Aquinas when
he came face to face with this form of rationalism? It
is to this question that I would like to respond in this
part of the Lecture. It seems to me that his reaction
was governed by certain broad principles, which I
would now like to delineate.
The first principle Aquinas employed is the follow¬
ing. One must distinguish carefully between reason
and faith, between philosophy and theology, between
what can be demonstrated by reason and what can
only be known by faith. Here are some illustrations
of his concern for precision with respect to this.
One might begin with the very first question from
his Summa theologiae, a question which deals with sa¬
cred doctrine (De sacra doctrina). There Thomas un¬
folds in clear terms the differences in object and in
method which distinguish theology from the philo¬
sophical sciences. Siger of Brabant will be influenced
by this question when he himself comes to distinguish
in his turn between that “theology which is a part of
philosophy” (what we today call natural theology)
and that theology “which is called Sacred Scripture”
(the science of revelation).8
As a second example one may turn to the contro¬
versy concerning the eternity of the world. As we saw
in the First Lecture, on this issue Thomas always took
the agnostic position. We can demonstrate by reason
8 Ibid.. p. 225.
83
neither that the world is eternal nor that it began in

time. Why did he adopt this position? He explains
why in two passages already considered above in the
First Lecture. He fears that if, while wishing to dem¬
onstrate by reason an article of faith, one has recourse
to faulty argumentation, one will only elicit ridicule
from unbelievers. Once more, then, one sees his con¬
cern to distinguish carefully between that which can
be demonstrated by human reason and that which
cannot. Boetius of Dacia, Siger’s colleague, well
understood Aquinas’ attitude and made it his own.
A Final example to illustrate Thomas’ attitude may
be found in the Prologue to his De imitate intellectus.
There he explicitly states that he is going to deal with
this question from a philosophical standpoint and not
from that of faith. It is quite evident to everyone, he
comments, that monopsychism contradicts the truth
of Christian faith. But here we wish to show that it
is incompatible with the principles of philosophy.
Thomas was well aware that he would have to attack
the Masters from the Arts Faculty on their own
ground—that of philosophy.9
Thomas’ second principle is this. Reason cannot con¬
tradict the faith. In other words, a truth established
by reason cannot contradict one proposed by divine
revelation for our belief. This principle is clearly
stated in the Final page of the De imitate intellectus. In
citing the Master whose anti-Christian attitude he
condemns, Aquinas writes: “What he then states is
even more serious: ‘By reason I necessarily conclude
that the intellect is unique. But I Firmly hold the op-
a L. W. Keeler, Sancti Thomae . . de imitate intellectus, p. 2, §2.
84
Rationalism
posite by faith.’ He thinks, therefore, that faith has

for its object affirmations whose contradictory can be
established by necessary demonstration. But by nec¬
essary demonstration one can only arrive at that
which is necessarily true, whose contradictory is false
and impossible. It follows from his assertion that the
faith has for its object that which is false and impos¬
sible, which even God cannot realize. The ears of the
faithful cannot tolerate such language.”
Thomas’ second principle cannot be doubted by
anyone who admits the divine origin of Christianity.
Revealed truth cannot contradict rational truth. Yet
the reconciliation of faith and reason has often
proved difficult during the course of history. But that
is due to human weaknesses since, on the one hand,
it is often difficult to determine precisely the exact
content of revelation and, on the other, it is just as
difficult to know where the truth lies in the teachings
proposed by the philosophers. Conflicts between
faith and reason are always the result of misunder¬
standings which bear either upon what is true in
terms of faith or on what is true according to reason.
When Siger of Brabant defended as a philosophical
truth the view that there is only one intellect for all
mankind, he made a serious mistake with respect to
philosophical truth. But when the Holy Office wanted
to condemn the heliocentric theory defended by Ga¬
lileo as contrary to Scripture, it was just as mistaken
regarding revealed truth. A considerable amount of
prudence is necessary whenever an apparent conflict
arises between faith and reason.
A third principle which guided Aquinas’ response
to the rationalist position is this. The purpose of phi-
losophy is not to know what previous philosophers

have thought, but to grasp the real as it is. One finds
a curious statement in Siger of Brabant’s brief trea¬
tise, De anirna intellectiva. There he declares that he is
going to try to determine the thought of the philos¬
ophers more than to discover the truth, since he is
treating matters philosophically {cum philosophice proceda-
mus).10 At first sight this statement is shocking and
almost incomprehensible, coming, as it does, from a
professor of philosophy who is usually so anxious
about the autonomy of philosophy. But one must re¬
member that in the universities of the Middle Ages
the essential role of a professor was to “read” (legere)
the classical authors put on the program of studies by
the Faculty. A course was known as a lectio, a term
which is the root for the English “lecture.” In the
Faculty of Arts the Master’s task was to “read,” that
is to say, to comment on the writings of Aristotle and
other philosophers. Thus one can understand the
frame of mind which Siger manifests in his surprising
statement.
This understanding of philosophical investigation
was reinforced for Siger and those like him by their
extraordinary esteem for Aristotle, which led them
more or less to identify “philosophy” with the
“thought of Aristotle.”
Thomas Aquinas, however, reacted strongly against
this mentality in defending the third principle pro¬
posed above. He formulated it in a celebrated passage
in his Commentary on the De caelo et mundo, which
was one of his last writings, left unfinished at his
10 B. Bazan, Siger de Brabant. Quaestiones in tertium. . . , p. 10,1: 6-9.
86
Rationalism
death. Near the end of Bk I of this Commentary he

analyzes Aristotle’s exposition of the different opin¬
ions of the Ancients concerning the origin of the cos¬
mos. He observes in this regard that an examination
of arguments advanced in support of opposing po¬
sitions is very worthwhile for the discovery of the
truth. But a little farther on, in noting the variety of
interpretations of the ancient views on cosmogony,
he states that we do not have to trouble ourselves too
much with respect to these divergences, since philo¬
sophical inquiry does not have as its purpose to know
what men have thought but what is the truth con¬
cerning reality. This is the third principle formulated
above.11
I do not think that Thomas knew Siger’s De anima
intellectiva, where one finds the curious statement
mentioned above. For Siger’s treatise was composed
in Paris ca. 1273 while Thomas was in Naples. In any
event, we have no document indicating that Thomas
was aware of it. Thus one cannot view the principle
formulated hy Thomas as a deliberate reply to Siger’s
statement. But this historical detail is not really im¬
portant. What is much more important is the fact that
the Dominican Master warns against servility to the
philosophers. He knew well that the servility of Siger
and his associates with respect to Aristotle was a fun¬
damental cause of the intellectual crisis which they
were undergoing and which had given birth to het¬
erodox Aristotelianism. Under the guise of a ration¬
alist concern for “freedom of thought’’ was hidden,
11 See Thomas de Aquino, In Aristotelis libros de caelo el mundo expositio,

liber I, lectio 22.
in fact, a philosophical dogmatism, an excessive cult

for the Philosopher, a kind of philosophical “tradi¬
tionalism.”
Aquinas’ fourth guiding principle in his response to
rationalism is that divine revelation, through which
we share in God’s knowledge itself, is superior to
human reason. It brings to reason valuable support
and serves as its indispensable complement. This
principle is developed especially in the first Question
of the Summa theologiae. Revelation has a twofold ob¬
ject. On the one hand there are truths which are ac¬
cessible to human reason, truths which God makes
known to man in order to assist him in discovering
them and to confirm him in their discovery. On the
other hand, there are truths which are beyond hu¬
man reason, the supernatural mysteries, that God re¬
veals in order to make known his design concerning
man’s call to a supernatural life, a participation in
the inner life of God himself.
An immediate corollary follows from this fourth
principle. Provided that we are certain of the fact that
such a doctrine is truly revealed, we must adhere to
it firmly, no matter what contrary philosophical opin¬
ions there may be. Siger of Brabant perfectly under¬
stood this principle from 1270 and thereafter, and
applied it many times in resolving his personal prob¬
lems.
Such, then, is the general view on the relationship
between reason and faith that Thomas Aquinas de¬
fended, and in terms of which he resisted the ration¬
alist tendencies which had appeared in the Faculty of
Arts.
88
Rationalism
IV
We could end our investigation at this point, since
we have seen what was Thomas’ attitude with respect
to the rationalist tendencies in the Faculty of Arts.
But it seems to me to be of interest to add some words
concerning the influence his very firm and clear at¬
titude had on Siger of Brabant. I shall speak of Siger
because he is, until now, the only heterodox Master
whose development after 1270 is well known to us,
and on whom Thomas’ influence is undeniable. T his
influence is already apparent in his Questions on the
Physics, which date from 1270 or 1271. It is very ev¬
ident in his De anima intellectiva and in his Questions
on the Metaphysics, both ca. 1273. Finally, it is even
more extensive and more pronounced in his last lec¬
tures as a Master, his Quaestiones super librum de causis,
which date from ca. 1276. It is certain that Siger’s
esteem, even admiration, for Aquinas continued to
grow after 1270. He uses Thomas’ writings more and
more extensively, although without naming him, in
accord with the custom of that time. He refers to
Albert the Great and Thomas as “most eminent men
in philosophy” (praecipui viri in philosophia, Albertus
et Thomas). But he maintains his independence and
does not hesitate to criticize Thomas when he is in
disagreement with him. In such cases he sometimes
mentions Thomas by name (as in the De anima intel¬
lectiva and the Questions on the Metaphysics), hut most
frequently discusses his views without naming him.
Siger’s appreciation for Thomas is not surprising
if one bears in mind all that the two Masters had in
common: their admiration for the work of Aristotle,
the major source for their philosophy; their very clear
89
views on the distinction between philosophical and

theological knowledge, on the scientific autonomy of
philosophy, and the distinctive character of its meth¬
ods; their clear, lucid, and ordered thought; their
predilection for metaphysics. Thomas’ beneficial in¬
fluence was undoubtedly decisive in Siger’s return
to orthodox ways, and this in turn gained for Siger
clemency from the Curia’s Tribunal where he had
taken refuge in order to escape from the Inquisitor
of France, Simon du Val.
Now let us consider more closely Siger’s develop¬
ment after 1270. Thomas’ intervention in his De imi¬
tate intellectus and Stephen Tempier’s Condemnation
of December 10, 1270, evidently opened the young
Master’s eyes. These events made him clearly aware
of the moral and religious problem posed for him by
his heterodox teaching. His writings after 1270 bear
witness to his radical change in attitude, a change
which was to increase during the following years.
From that time onward, whenever Siger is aware
that he is exposing a position contrary to Christian
dogma, he states that, in accord with his role as pro¬
fessor of philosophy, he is presenting the views of
Aristotle or of other philosophers but without claim¬
ing that they are true. On the contrary, he lets us
know that such positions are erroneous to the extent
that they contradict the teachings of Christian reve¬
lation, which are always true. In his first writings after
the Condemnation of 1270, he holds to this attitude.
But our philosopher comes to see more and more
clearly that this position is not sufficient and there¬
fore that it is not satisfying. For it limits itself to op¬
posing certain philosophical conclusions to contrary
00
Rationalism
affirmations of the faith without explaining why suc h

results of human reason are to be contested and re¬
jected in the name of divinely revealed truth. Should
philosophical investigation inevitably lead to erro¬
neous conclusions? How can this be? Siger attempts
to reply to these questions, as one can see in his Ques¬
tions on the Metaphysics and his De anirna intellectiva,
where he tries to account for these antinomies be¬
tween philosophy and the faith. Sometimes he attrib¬
utes these divergencies to supernatural or miraculous
interventions by God, which modify the normal
course of nature. The prophets, as instruments of
divine revelation, make us aware of the effects of
these interventions which stem from divine freedom.
Sometimes he stresses the weakness of human reason
when faced with difficult metaphysical problems. Ar¬
istotle had compared the human intellect to the eyes
of a night-bird which is blinded by the light of the
sun. Sometimes he attempts to criticize, on philo¬
sophical grounds, conclusions from human science
which contradict the faith. Time will not permit us to
analyze all the passages where Siger attempts to ac¬
count for the divergencies he sees between certain
philosophical conclusions and certain truths of faith.
These texts are of lively interest, both historical and
psychological.
In his final lectures, his Quaestiones super librum de
causis, Siger seems to have overcome his intellectual
crisis. There he frequently af firms the superiority of
the faith to reason. He does so calmly and in complete
conformity with the principles of St. Thomas.
One might well wonder whether Siger’s many
professions of faith after 1270 are sincere or if they
01
are simply intended to appease ecclesiastical authority

and to avoid persecution from defenders of ortho¬
doxy. Father P. Mandonnet, who had the merit of
writing the first solid biography of Siger and who
published some of his opuscula, proposed a very
harsh interpretation of his thought and his religious
attitude. Mandonnet did not believe in the sincerity
of his professions of faith, and regarded him as a
“free thinker” and a “rationalist” who concealed
his heterodox convictions for reasons of prudence.
He thought that, in order better to ward off suspi¬
cion, Siger had maintained the famous “double¬
truth” theory. According to this, a given thesis could
be true in philosophy even though its contradictory
thesis would be true according to faith and theology.
Thus, for instance, according to philosophy the world
is eternal in the past, while according to faith the
world began to be.
Today, Mandonnet’s views are completely dated.
No historian now doubts Siger’s sincerity. And it is
certain that no Master in the Middle Ages defended
the theory of double-truth, a position which is totally
incompatible with the fundamental principles of Ar¬
istotelian philosophy.
Siger’s sincerity is guaranteed by the psychological
crisis he endured between 1270 and 1275, and by the
efforts he made during this period to overcome the
antinomies between faith and reason. If he had lost
his faith, if he had become a “free-thinker,” these
attempts would have been senseless, and it would
have been useless for him to go to so much trouble.
It would have been enough for him to renew regu-
92
Rationalism
larly his professions of faith while continuing to pres¬

ent the thought of the philosophers.12
It may be helpful for us to pause here to examine

the theory of double-truth. Many historians continue
to regard this as a characteristic teaching of the school
which they refer to as “Latin Averroism.” We are
now familiar with the intellectual crisis of the thir¬
teenth century, provoked as it was by the conflict be¬
tween a Christian and a non-Christian view of the
universe. In order to resolve this conflict and to ap¬
pease defenders of orthodoxy, the “Averroists”
would have adopted the double-truth theory. A thesis
can be true in philosophy (for instance, eternity of the
world in the past) and its contradictory thesis can be true
at the same time according to faith (for instance, noneter¬
nity of the world in the past). Let us consider things
more closely and attempt to determine precisely what
was, in fact, the intellectual attitude of the Masters to
whom the double-truth theory has been attributed.
Siger of Brabant
The first Christian Master to whom modern his¬
torians have imputed this theory is Siger of Brabant.
We already know of his intellectual development
after 1270 and his ef forts to reconcile philosophy and
the faith. His great historian, Mandonnet, turning to
those texts which point to an inner crisis on the part
of Siger and, after an analysis which is not unnu-
12 On the evolution of Siger’s attitude towards the faith after 1270

see Van Steenberghen, Maltre Siger de Brabant, pp. 231-57.
anced, concludes in these terms: “One is not, there¬

fore, justified in doubting as historical fact the con¬
tradictory position taken with respect to philosophy
and the faith by the Averroists in general and by Siger
of Brabant in particular.”13 Without speaking ex¬
pressly of the theory of double-truth, in fact Man-
donnet attributes this position to Siger. But the
expression “double-truth” had been in circulation
for a long time, and after Mandonnet’s writings, it
was taken up, frequently in derivative publications
where, as usually happens, the reservations and nu¬
ances present in Mandonnet’s work disappeared.
E. Gilson was the first to denounce as inexact the
formula “double-truth” for Siger of Brabant. In his
own examination of texts where Siger states his po¬
sition concerning the antinomies between reason and
faith, this eminent historian establishes the following
facts: Siger never defends the compatibility of two
contradictory truths. In cases of conflict between phi¬
losophy and faith, Siger always states that the truth
is on the side of the faith.14 One obviously may won¬
der whether these professions of faith are sincere,
continues Gilson, but that is another question. Man-
donnet doubted Siger’s sincerity and was inclined to
see in Averroism a “disguised form of free-think¬
ing.”15 Gilson rather believes that Siger remained a
13 P. Mandonnet, Siger de Brabant et Vaverroisme latin au XIIIe siecle,

1st ed. in Collectanea Friburgensia, VIII (Fribourg [Suisse], 1899), p.
CLXXI; 2nd ed. in Les Philosophes Beiges VI-VII (Louvain, 1911-
1908), v. 1, pp. 152-53.
14 E. Gilson, Etudes de philosophie medievale (Strasbourg, 1921), p. 59:
“Ces philosophes n’enseignaient aucunement qu’il existe deux verites
simultanees et contradictoires; Siger de Brabant declare toujours que
la verite est du cote de la foi.”
15 Mandonnet, Siger de Brabant. . . , 2nd ed., v. 1, p. 194.
94
Rationalism
convinced believer, and most recent historians have

followed him, for reasons which I need not discuss
here. In either case, the double-truth theory is ex¬
cluded. If one follows Mandonnet, one makes of
Siger a rationalist for whom truth is found on the
side of reason. If one follows Gilson, truth falls on
the side of faith. According to both, truth for Siger
is one.
Boetius of Dacia
Let us now consider Boetius of Dacia, a colleague
of Siger in the Faculty of Arts at Paris. Controversies
concerning Siger of Brabant had led to almost unan¬
imous agreement in support of Gilson’s views. Even
if one hesitated to recognize Siger’s sincerity, there
was no longer any question of imputing to him the
double-truth theory. The choice was rather between
Siger the “rationalist” and Siger the “fideist.” This
was the situation when the Hungarian scholar, G.
Sajo, then librarian for manuscripts in the National
Library of Budapest, thought he had discovered a
real defender of the double-truth theory in the per¬
son of Boetius of Dacia. After recalling that, accord¬
ing to Gilson, “the double-truth theory had never
been sustained,” and that this opinion had been
supported by many historians, Sajo continues: “The
discovery of the De mundi aetemitate of Boetius of Da¬
cia renders these recent suppositions untenable.” In
his subsequent interpretation of Boetius’ position,
Sajo thinks that the double-truth theory implies, for
this Master, a relativistic notion of truth, which is de¬
void of any absolute validity. Revealed truth and phil¬
osophical truth are truths secundum quid, “that is to
Fernand Van Steenterghen
say, relative to the premises from which they are

drawn.”16
F. Sassen, the well known Dutch medievalist, who
has been interested in Siger and his school for a long
time, accepted Sajo’s views without reservation. He
believed that one can account for this relativistic un¬
derstanding of truth because of the excessive influ¬
ence of sophistical exercises in the Faculty of Arts.
From this there would have resulted an exaggerated
attention to the purely formal value of argumentation
without sufficient concern for the content and real
value of the premises.17
One can imagine my curiosity when I turned to the
text of Boetius’ opusculum after having taken note
of Sajo’s and Sassen’s commentaries. If their inter¬
pretation was accurate, one would now have discov¬
ered a Master who, while belonging to Siger’s group,
would have defended a position on the relation be¬
tween faith and reason which differed profoundly
from his. It would moreover be necessary to admit,
against every likelihood, that in the midst of the thir¬
teenth century, an Aristotelian philosopher defended
the compatibility of two contradictory truths.
My personal examination of this opusculum proved
to be quite surprising. Not only does Boetius not
teach the double-truth theory, but his fundamental
thesis and the main purpose of his exposition is to
show that there is no real disagreement, no real contra¬
diction, between the Findings of philosophy and the
16 G. Sajo, Un traite recemment decouvert de Boece de Dacie De mundi

aeternitate (Budapest, 1954), pp. 36-37 and 71-74.
17 F. Sassen, “Boethius van Dacie en de theorie van de dubbele waar-
heid,” Studia catholica 30 (1955), pp. 262-73.
96
Rationalism
faith ([philosophorum] sententia in nulla contradicit sen-

tentiae christianae fidei nisi apud non intelligentes).18 The
same point is clearly stated at the end of the work
{Idea nulla est contradictio inter fidem et Philosophum)}9
In order to illustrate the justification for his position,
Boetius takes as his example the problem of the
world’s duration in the past. What, he asks, is phi¬
losophy’s position on this matter? No philosophical
science (neither physics, nor mathematics, nor me¬
taphysics) can, starting from its own principles, dem¬
onstrate that the world began to be. On the other
hand, none of these sciences can demonstrate the
eternity of the world. In sum, then, before this ques¬
tion philosophy is agnostic and, as a consequence,
there is not even the appearance of a conflict with
the faith, according to which the world began to exist.
The reason for philosophy’s inability to resolve this
question is the fact that the duration of the universe
depends on God’s free will. But we can only know
what God has willed when he deigns to reveal this to
Sajo, Un traite . . ., p. 83:21-23.

19 Ibid., p. 1 18: 962-963.
20 Ibid., pp. 84-117. Boetius’ opusculum is fascinating from begin¬
ning to end. For an analysis of this as well as for a critique of Sajo’s
and Sassen’s interpretations see Van Steenberghen, “Nouvelles re-
cherches sur Siger de Brabant et son ecole,” Revue philosophique de
Louvain 54 (1956), pp. 137-47. Also see Van Steenberghen, La philo¬
sophy an XIII* siecle, pp. 404-1 1. Sajo has acknowledged his mistake in
a communication to the International Congress at Cologne in 1961:
’’Boetius de Dacia und seine philosophische Bedeutung," in the Acts
of the Congress, Die Metaphysik im Mittelalter, Miscellanea mediaevalia,
2 (Berlin, 1963), pp. 454-63. He has reedited Boetius’ opusculum on
the basis of five manuscripts, resulting in a greatly superior text to that
of the first edition. See Boet/i de Dana tractalus de aetemitate mundi. Editio
altera, Quellen und Studien zur Geschichte der Philosophic IV (Berlin,
1964).
97
As one will note, Boetius’ views with respect to the

problem of the world’s eternity coincide with those
of Thomas Aquinas. One could discuss them, and,
for my part, I would only accept them partially. But
in any event they are perfectly orthodox and are in
no way connected with the double-truth theory.
One may wonder how it was possible for the editor
of Boetius’ treatise to have misunderstood so com¬
pletely the author’s intentions and the meaning of
his exposition. A librarian by profession, Sajo is nei¬
ther a philosopher nor an historian of philosophy.
He was not sufficiently prepared for the work of
interpretation which he undertook. One sees this
when he takes up his examination of the treatise’s
teaching, since he proposes the following definition
of the double-truth theory “According to this, two
opposed truths, namely, one that is theological and
another that is philosophical, could be valid at the
same time (simul stare possunt), luithout contradicting one
another.”21 It is clear that this definition is completely
unacceptable, since it attributes to eventual defenders
of the double-truth theory an even more flagrant in¬
coherence than that normally ascribed to them. For
one now assigns to them a contradiction in terms in
the strict sense, since two opposed (contradictory)
truths would not contradict one another. Never was
such an enormity defended by any medieval Master,
and there is no trace of this in Boetius’ De mundi
aeternitate. The problem for Siger and his contem¬
poraries is to determine what one should think and
do when philosophical investigation leads to a con-
21 Sajo, Un traite . . . , p. 35. Italics mine. The author gives an inter¬

esting bibliography on the double-truth question.
98
Rationalism
elusion which contradicts a certain affirmation of

Christian revelation, for instance, when philosophy
concludes that the world is eternal, while Christian
doctrine maintains that the world is not eternal. Here
one is indeed dealing with contradictory propositions,
and the double-truth theory would consist in holding
that two contradictory propositions can both be true
at one and the same time.
Having started from this faulty notion, Sajo inev¬
itably had to go astray. He seems to have been misled
likewise by certain expressions which are, at first
sight, shocking, as when Boetius affirms that the
physicist (natural philosopher) should deny truths
which contradict his principles and destroy his sci¬
ence, such as the resurrection of the dead, or the
instantaneous cure of a man born blind. But Boetius
explains that he should deny these truths from the
particular point of view of his science and its principles,
even though he admits them and believes them to be
possible through the intervention of a Cause superior
to natural causes. Scientific truths are true under a
certain respect (secundum quid), that is to say, within
the limits of the principles and methods of natural
science, while truth revealed by God has an absolute
value (veritas simpliciter).
Ferrand of Spain
A. Zimmermann, President of the Thomas-Institut
of the University of Cologne, has recently made
known a Spanish commentator on Aristotle’s Meta¬
physics, Ferrand of Spain.22 His Commentary, which
22 A. Zimmermann, “Ein Averroist des spaten 13. Jahrhunderts: Fer-
randus de Hispania,” Archiv fur Geschichte der Philosophic 50 (1968),
pp. 145-64.
99
was probably composed ca. 1290, deals with Bks I-

III, VI-X, and XII of Aristotle’s text. In his work
of exegesis he expressly takes as his guide Averroes,
whom he regards as the best interpreter of Aristotle.
This assessment is due, one may suppose, to his study
of the texts, but he acknowledges in artless fashion
that his sympathy for the Philosopher from Cordoba
can perhaps also be explained by the fact that he
himself was born in that same region. Now, he ex¬
plains, proximity in place is one of the causes for
similarity in natures, as Aristotle teaches. He adds,
however, that his great esteem for Averroes’ work as
a commentator in no way diminishes his respect for
the truth whatever it may be.
Zimmermann notes that Ferrand distinguishes
sharply between the problem of interpreting Aristot¬
le’s texts and that of the truth of his teaching. He
also points out passages where Ferrand asserts his
unconditioned attachment to the truth of the Catholic
faith or to any other truth, even if it happens that Ar¬
istotle teaches the opposite. On the other hand, how¬
ever, when it comes to the doctrine of creation, Zim¬
mermann suspects that Ferrand’s intentions may not
be completely pure. For while declaring that truth is
to be found on the side of faith, he lets it be under¬
stood that the contrary views of Aristotle are not all
that inaccurate and that they are acceptable on the
level of philosophy of nature. And Zimmermann con¬
tinues in these terms: “In reading these passages one
has the impression, not without reason, that Fer¬
rand’s remarks are rather intended to avoid the
known reproach of defending the doctrine of double¬
truth, as victims of the Condemnation of 1277 were
100
Rationalism
accustomed to do. As to whether Ferrand unequiv¬

ocally professed this position, this cannot he settled
until one has studied his entire work.” Finally, at
the end of his study, the author concludes that Fer¬
rand is “an Averroist in the strict meaning of the
term,” that is to say, an authentic disciple of Aver-
roes and hence, a precursor of John of Jandun, who
boasted of being the “ape” of Aristotle and his Arab
Commentator.
1 do not agree with these views of Zimmermann
about Ferrand of Spain. We know today of learned
interpreters of Aristotle who nonetheless do not pro¬
fess Aristotelian philosophy. Among them there are
some who hold Averroes’ Commentaries in great es¬
teem and judge them to be more faithful to the Phi¬
losopher’s thought than those of Aquinas or than the
paraphrases of Albert the Creat. But no one would
dream of regarding these commentators as “Aver-
roists.” I he question therefore arises: Does one Find
in the Middle Ages certain commentators who are
only commentators, commentators on Aristotle who
regularly rely on Averroes, but who limit themselves
in this to their role as exegetes without adopting the
doctrines which they explain? Ferrand of Spain seems
to be an excellent example of this. He interprets Ar¬
istotle’s text with the assistance of Averroes’ com¬
mentary, without ever committing himself as to his
own thought and even while clearly distancing him¬
self from the Philosopher and his Commentator. In
the conclusion to his commentary he explicitly distin¬
guishes the search for truth from the exegete’s task.
He rejects every human authority and every human
argument which contradicts the truth of Christian
101
faith. On the other side, his commentary does not

betray any trace of an intellectual crisis nor any anx¬
iety, but exudes serenity and sincerity. In brief, all
happens there as if, having learned from Siger’s dis¬
appointments and from the Parisian crisis of 1267-
1277, the Spanish Master deliberately limited himself
to the role of historian of doctrines. And when he
departs from this role, it is in order to address certain
criticisms to the Philosopher or the Commentator in
the name of revealed truth and, sometimes, even in
the name of right reason. The facts being such, there
is clearly no place for the double-truth theory in Fer-
rand’s intellectual attitude.
John of Jandun
With John of Jandun we come to the fourteenth
century. According to B. Geyer, this Parisian Master,
who taught in the Faculty of Arts around 1310,
clearly professed the double-truth theory.23 At first
sight, this would not seem to be unreasonable. “It
seems to us,” writes Sassen, “that the double-truth
theory is not possible until that moment when, among
Averroists in the fourteenth century, it is grounded
on the voluntarist position according to which God
can render possible that which is impossible. Conse¬
quently, two contradictory propositions could both be
true at the same time.”24 I wrote in similar terms in
1942: “. . . such a doctrine, conceivable perhaps
23 B. Geyer, Fr. Ueberwegs Grundriss der Geschichte der Philosophie. Zwei-

ter Teil, Die patristische und scholastische Philosophie, 11th ed. (Berlin,
1928), p. 616.
24 F. Sassen, “Siger de Brabant et la doctrine de la double verite,”
Revue Neoscolastique de Philosophie 33 (1931), p. 179.
102
Rationalism
within the nominalist climate of the fourteenth cen¬

tury, is completely incompatible with Siger’s episte¬
mology and with his way of understanding divine
power.”25 This was to suppose that within the skepti¬
cal and relativistic atmosphere which was widespread
in the fourteenth century, a Master could have taught
the doctrine of the double-truth without immediately
provoking thereby universal reprobation from all of
his colleagues.
But in fact Jandun’s philosophical work dates from
the beginning of the century, at a time when the crit¬
ical and skeptical tendencies had scarcely begun to
appear. And examination of the texts of this Aver-
roist Master reveals an attitude that conforms, in its
essentials, to that of his predecessors in the thirteenth
century. When faced with an antinomy between phi¬
losophy and Christian teaching, he regularly states
that the truth is found on the side of faith. There is
never any question of two contradictory truths. But
one can detect a considerable difference between the
personal dispositions of Jandun and those of Siger.
While, at least after 1270, Siger attempts to find some
explanation for the divergences that he perceives be¬
tween certain philosophical conclusions and religious
teachings, Jandun parades without shame the oppo¬
sitions which he believes exist and states that he is
incapable of overcoming them.
This admission of his inability to resolve these an¬
tinomies seems to betray some annoyance on his part
as well as his refusal to attempt to reconcile faith and
25 F. Van Steenberghen, Siger de Brabant d'apr'es ses oeuvres inedites. II.

Siger dans I’histoire de Varistotelisme, in Les Philosophes Beiges XI11
(Louvain, 1942), p. 688.
reason. This bad humor in one who is also known as

a declared adversary of the papacy has led most his¬
torians to cast doubt on the sincerity of his profes¬
sions of faith. Jandun would be, in fact, a rationalist,
a free-thinker. He would conceal his hand in order
to avoid any difficulty with defenders of orthodoxy.
Nonetheless, these apparently judicious conclu¬
sions have been challenged by one of Jandun’s most
recent historians. At the end of a detailed and well
documented study, S. MacClintock concludes that
this lack of belief on the part of the Averroist Master
has never been demonstrated.26 This judgment re¬
joins that offered by A. Maier in her research con¬
cerning the double-truth theory among the major
Masters in Arts in the fourteenth century, John Buri-
dan and Nicholas Oresme. According to her, no
scholastic ever defended the existence of two contra¬
dictory truths. All maintain that the absolute truth is
to be found on the side of divine revelation and in
most cases we have no serious reason to doubt their
sincerity. The rationalist attitude appears only toward
the end of the fourteenth century, with men such as
Blaise of Parma. This attitude heralds the approach
of the Renaissance.27
26 S. MacClintock, Perversity and Error. Studies on the “Averroist” John

of Jandun (Indiana University: Bloomington, 1956). The fourth part of
this work is entitled: “Faith, Reason, and the Double Truth” (pp. 69-
101). The author states that he began his study of the Parisian Master
with the usual prejudices relating to his Averroism, his duplicity, and
his unbelief. Examination of his texts has forced him to revise or at
least to reserve his judgment.
27 A. Maier, Metaphysische Hintergriinde der spatscholastischen Naturphi-
losophie, in Studien zur Naturphilosophie der Spatscholastik IV (Rome, 1955),
ch. 1.
104
Rationalism
Averroes
What is one to say of Averroes himself. Did he
originate the double-truth theory? Considerable study
has been devoted to the Philosopher from Cordoba’s
attitude vis-a-vis the Koran and the Muslim religion.
It is not certain that his attitude was always the same.
What is certain is that he never proposed a doctrine
which bears any resemblance to the double-truth the¬
ory. He maintains, one may stippose, that the Koran,
being of divine origin, is addressed to all classes of
minds and that it should be interpreted differently
by the simple believer, by the theologian, and by the
philosopher. But these interpretations are not equally
true. The first two are only approximations and are
“true” to the extent that they can be reduced to the
third, which alone is absolutely true. Averroes’ re¬
spect for the Koran conceals, therefore, a decidedly
rationalist option. Reason judges in the final analysis
and it is reason that determines the authentic mean¬
ing to be given to the sacred text. There is only one
truth for Averroes, therefore, that of the philoso¬
phers.28
An Obstinate Legend and Its Origins

Let us here bring our investigation to a close. It has
not been exhaustive, for I have not drawn upon many
anonymous documents which are part of the litera¬
ture of heterodox Aristotelianism or of Latin Aver-
roism. Nor have I examined here the Italian Aver-
28 On Averroes’ attitude vis-a-vis the Muslim religion see E. Renan,

Averroes et I’averrohme, Premiere partie, fourth edition (Paris, 1882);
I.. Gauthier, La theorie d'Ibn Rochd (Averroes) sur les rapports de la religion
et de la philosophic (Paris, 1909); and Urn Rochd (Averroes), Les grands
philosophes (Paris, 1948).
105
roists of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. But

I can assure the reader that these witnesses, passed
over here so as not to prolong unduly my exposition,
contribute nothing new to the solution of the problem
under examination.
The first and most important conclusion which fol¬
lows from our investigation is this: No one in the Middle
Ages defended the double-truth theoi'y. No one maintained
that two contradictory propositions can both be true
at the same time. This historical fact, guaranteed by
all of the sources at our disposal, was foreseeable.
How could one imagine that thinkers so imbued with
Aristotelian teachings, so intensively trained in di¬
alectic, and so filled with admiration for the Stagirite,
could have disregarded so completely that logical law
which is for Aristotle “the first principle”: the prin¬
ciple of non-contradiction? As regards Siger of Bra¬
bant, his teaching on this point is as explicit and as
firm as one could wish. Article VI of his Impossibilia
is a discussion with a “Sophist” who casts doubt on
this “first principle.” Siger replies that this principle
is absolutely necessary, that its denial is unthinkable,
and that no one can be convinced at the same time
of two statements which explicitly contradict one an¬
other. Elsewhere, in replying to an argument of
Thomas Aquinas, Siger states that God himself in his
omnipotence cannot do that which implies contradic¬
tion.29 Thus J. P. Muller could write: “One cannot fail
to note the insistence, one might even say the em-
29De anima intellectiva, ch. 7. See Bazan, Siger de Brabant. Quaestiones

in tertium de anima. De anima intellectiva. De aeternitate mundi, p. 103: 49-
50. For Art. VI of the Impossibilia see Bazan, Siger de Brabant. Ecrits de
logique, de morale et de physique, pp. 92-97.
106
Rationalism
phasis, with which Siger removes any foundation for

the double-truth thesis.”30 All Aristotelians in the
Middle Age speak in the same way. I know of no
exception.
But, then, how account for this mistake on the part
of so many historians? T hey surely did not dream up
the double-truth theory. The double-truth theory has
resulted from a superficial and incorrect interpretation of
two sets of texts', those which express the position of
heterodox Masters, and those which contain their op¬
ponents’ reaction. Such will be our second conclu¬
sion, but it calls for a brief justifying commentary.
The heterodox Masters are responsible for the cel¬
ebrated theory because of the blunt way in which they
often oppose philosophical conclusions and state¬
ments of Christian teaching. Thus one of them dem¬
onstrates, following Aristotle, that the world and mo¬
tion are eternal in the past. Then he immediately
adds: “But according to faith the world has begun
and movement has begun. And this should not be
demonstrated, for if it were demonstrable, faith
would be superfluous.” Or again: “It is true that,
according to faith, many immaterial forms can exist
in the same species. But according to Aristotle and all
the philosophers, this is impossible.” The authors of
such statements indeed add that the truth is found
on the side of faith. But one has the impression that
they remain attached to the conclusions of philoso¬
phy, and that, without admitting this expressly, they
30 ]. P. Muller, “Philosophic et foi chez Siger de Brabant. I.a theorie

de la double verite,” in Miscellanea philosophica R. R. Josepho Gredt,
O.S.B. completis LXXV annis oblata, Studia Anselmiana 7-8 (Rome,
1938), p. 40.
107
hold as true two contradictory propositions. In fact,

they feel that they are driven to a choice which is very
painful for them, and which many of them cannot
bring themselves to make. This accounts for the per¬
sisting malaise that one finds in Siger of Brabant.
On the other hand, defenders of orthodoxy quickly
recognized this confusion on the part of these Chris¬
tian followers of Aristotle. This is indicated by the
concluding page of Thomas’ De imitate intellectus
wherein he denounces Siger’s equivocal attitude, and
which we have already cited above. There Thomas
rebukes him for holding that “faith has for its object
affirmations whose contradictory can be established
by necessary demonstration.” From this it will follow
that the faith has for its object “that which is false and
impossible, that which even God cannot realize.”31
Stephen Tempier, the Bishop of Paris, speaks in a
similar vein in the prologue to his famed Condem¬
nation of 219 propositions in 1277: “In order not to
appear to support the theses which they expose, they
camouflage their solutions. They say, in effect, that
these are true according to philosophy, but not ac¬
cording to Catholic faith, as if there were two con¬
trary truths.”32
31 Keeler, Sancti Thomae . . . de unitate intellectus, p. 79. Also see above,
p. 53. Thomas does not attribute to Siger the double-truth theory. He
rather forces him to say that the faith teaches doctrines that are “false
and impossible.”
32 Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis, T. I, p. 543. Also in Mandon-
net, Siger . . . , 2nd ed., v. 2, p. 175. “Ne autem quod sic innuunt as-
serere videantur, responsiones ita palliant quod, dum cupiunt vitare
Scillam, incidunt in Charibdim. Dicunt enim ea esse vera secundum
philosophiam, sed non secundum fidem catholicam, quasi sint duae
contrariae veritates.” The quasi should be noted. Here again, Tempier
does not say that the condemned Masters affirm the existence of a
double-truth.
108
Rationalism
As one can see, opponents of the heterodox Mas¬

ters wanted to force them into the double-truth the¬
ory, in order to show that their position was abso¬
lutely untenable. This leads us to formulate one final
conclusion. The double-truth theory is a clumsy and
inaccurate expression used by many modern histo¬
rians to characterize an intellectual crisis created for a
certain number of thinkers, beginning in the thir¬
teenth century, by the meeting between non-Chris¬
tian philosophy and Christian thought. This crisis was
an especially grave episode in the troubled history of
the relationships between faith and reason, between
religious thought and rational knowledge.33
CONCLUSION
From this Third Lecture, we may draw two conclu¬
sions, one historical and one religious.
On the historical side, it is clear that there were
rationalist tendencies in the Faculty of Arts at Paris
between 1265 and 1270. But this rationalist thrust
seems to have been largely contained after 1270.
Thomas Aquinas contributed effectively to its neu¬
tralization. This is certainly true in the case of Siger
of Brabant, and it seems that one may draw the same
conclusion with respect to Boetius of Dacia. The Con¬
demnation of 1277 was often unjust to the two lead¬
ers of this movement, Siger and Boetius, as regards
many of the 219 articles which were proscribed.34
33 For fuller discussion of the double-truth theory see Van Steen-

berghen, Introduction a, I’etude de la philosophic medievale, Philosophes
medievaux XVIII (Louvain-Paris, 1974), pp. 555-70.
34 See R. Hissette, Enquete sur les 219 articles condamnes a Paris le 7
mars 1277, Philosophes medievaux XXII (Louvain-Paris, 1977).
On the religious side, history leaves for us a lesson

in both prudence and modesty. In a case of apparent
conflict between a scientific thesis and a religious doc¬
trine, one must investigate very carefully and with an
exacting critical sense in order to determine whether
the scientific thesis is solidly established and whether
the religious doctrine is really contained in the de¬
posit of revelation. Such investigation will always re¬
sult in dispelling misunderstandings and in showing
that the conflict was more apparent than real.
1 10
INDEX OF NAMES
Albert the Great, 6, 9, 37, 44, Galileo, 85
77, 89, 101 Gauthier, L., 105 n.
Alexander of Aphrodisias, Geyer, B., 102
38, 56 Giele, Maurice, 82
Algazel, 56, 58 Gilson, E., 94-95
Aristotle, 1, 2, 4, 7-8, 11, 17, Grabmann, M., 12 n.
18, 20-24, 30-35, 38, 42,
Hissette, R., 109 n.
43, 44, 45, 48-49, 50, 55-
Hugh of St. Victor, 14
63, 66, 68, 71, 73, 74-75,
79, 81, 86-88, 89, 90-91, John of Jandun, 29, 101,
92, 99-102, 106, 107, 108 102-104
Augustine, St., 7-8, 14, 44,
73, 75, 81 Kant, 21
Averroes, 5, 7, 29, 33-34, 35, Keeler, L. W., 54 n., 80 n.,
84 n., 108 n.
41, 43, 51, 53, 54-56, 58-
61, 63, 77, 100-102, 105 Lull, Raymond, 77
Avicebron, 5, 44
Avicenna, 5, 33, 44, 53, 56, MacClintock. S., 104
58, 77 Maier, A., 104
Maimonides, Moses, 5
Bacon, Roger, 77 Mandonnet, P., 12, 92, 93-95
Bazan, B., 6, 8 n., 67 n., 86 Marlasca, A., viii
n., 106 n. Mercier, Cardinal, 19
Becker, Leon, 19 Muller, J. P„ 106-107
Blaise of Parma, 104
Boethius, 14 Nys, Desire, 19
Boetius of Dacia, vii, 84, 95- Oresme, Nicholas, 104
99, 109
Bonaventure, St., vii, ix, 2, 9, Perrier, J., 12
10, 16. 24-26, 14, 49-50, Plato, 44, 58, 73
77, 78-79, 82 Plotinus, 5, 44
Buridan, John, 104 Presocratics, 4,11
Renan, E., 105 n.
Cruz Pontes, J. M. da, 37 n.
Sajo, G., 95-99
Damascene, St. John, 14
Sassen, F„ 96, 97 n„ 102
Ferrand of Spain, 99-102 Siger of Brabant, vii, viii, 2,
3, 4, 6-8, 30, 33, 35-42, Paris, vii, 2, 82, 90, 108
43, 49, 52-53, 62, 67-70, Themistius, 56, 58
80-81, 83-88, 89-92, 93- Theophrastus, 56, 58
95, 96, 98, 102, 103, 106- Vennebusch, J., 37
107, 108, 109
Simon du Val, Inquisitor of Weber, Edouard-Henri, 3
France, 90 William of Moerbeke, 56
Tempier, Stephen, Bishop of Zimmermann, A., 25, 99-101
112
INDEX OF TOPICS
Agent intellect, and possible 92, 94, 96, 103-104, 109

(receptive) intellect, 35, 40 Fideism, 95
Agnosticism, 1 1-18, 23, 83- Form of matter vs. material
84, 97 form, the human soul as,
Anthropology of St. Thomas, 48, 57, 63-64, 68, 69-70,
43-49, 70-74 72-73
Averroism, 12, 29, 35, 38, Freedom of the divine will, 7,
39, 40, 42, 45, 48, 49, 50, 1 1-12, 23-24, 53, 97, 102,
51-52, 54—58, 61-65, 67, 108
79, 82, 83, 93, 94, 101,
102, 104, 105-106 Human intellect, 7-8, 29-74,
81
Condemnation at Paris in
1270, 2, 7, 78, 81, 82, 90 Infinite, the, 11, 12, 14, 16-
Condemnation at Paris in 18, 19-27
1277, 100, 108, 109
Creative causality, 5-6, 8, 1 Il¬ Matter-form composition, as
ls, 27, 33, 48-49, 61-62, applied to man, 31-32, 45-
66 49, 55, 60, 65, 69
Metaphysical vs. psychological
De Anima of Aristotle, 8, 32- interpretations of man, 29-
33, 34, 55, 60 30, 31-35, 42-43, 46, 48,
Double-truth theory, 92, 93— 50, 59-67
109
Dualistic anthropology, 36- Neoplatonism, 5, 32-33, 77
37, 44-45, 73-74 '
Phantasms (brain images), 29,
Eternal creation, 5-6, 8, 1 Il¬
34, 35, 39, 40, 41,71
ls
Physics of Aristotle, 4—5, 17,
Evolution of the (material) 22-23, 55
universe, 21-22, 62, 63
Rationalism, 8, 52, 75-1 10
Faculty of Arts at Paris, 1-3, Revelation, 9, 10, 75, 78-79,
5-6, 9, 26, 29-30, 34-35, 81, 83, 84, 85, 88, 90, 91,
50, 76-77, 78-83, 84, 86,
97, 99, 102, 104, 110
88, 89, 96, 102, 109
Faith and reason, 9, 15, 18, Siger of Brabant, influence of
26-27, 53-54, 80-88, 91, St. Thomas on, 89-93, 109
Siger of Brabant, sincerity of, material form, the human
91-93, 94-95 soul as
Soul, human, as form of Soul and body, 31, 39, 44,
matter vs. material form. 45-49, 53, 60, 63-66, 68,
See Form of matter vs. 72, 73
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Thomas Aquinas and radical
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NUNC COGNOSCO EX PARTE

THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Steenberghen, Fernand van, 1904-

Revisions of three lectures given at Catholic Uni¬

The First Lecture

The Second Lecture

The Third Lecture

Index of Topics 113

the latest findings by others throughout the scholarly

doctrinal history in order to develop his theme, Aqui¬

It is our hope, therefore, that this small volume will

ETERNITY OF THE WORLD

March 19, 1255, placed all of the known writings of

1 On the introduction of Aristotelianism in the thirteenth century

It is not possible for us to choose the first approach

tian teaching. From the beginning of his career, in

In this First Lecture I shall concentrate on the prob¬

to imply that one day and on its own it emerged from

Greek and Arab philosophers concerning the origin

2 See B. Bazan, Siger de Brabant. Ecrits de logique, de morale et de physique,

fore the Condemnation of 1270, since after that date

3 See F. Van Steenberghen, Maitre Sign de Brabant, Philosophes me-

bable than Augustine’s since it corresponds better

4 See B. Bazan, Siger de Brabant. Quaestiones in tertium de anima. De

earth.” This doctrine reappears in other scriptural

cans, had defended this in the Faculty of Theology

5 See S. Bonaventura, Commentaria in quatuor libros Sententiarum, II,

ments for and the arguments against the world’s

they have not always existed. In the second he appeals

7 See Summa theologiae, Ia, q. 46, art. 1 and 2.

there was a beginning to its duration, the question

There is, therefore, no repugnance between being

I forbear to reply to other objections, either because

seen that in his De aeternitate mundi, Thomas could

realized and achieved infinite, already produced in

uals have succeeded one another in the past. But hu¬

he admits the possibility of an infinite simultaneously

First of all, any existing multitude must be included

no sense to say that it “began” to exist “at a moment

since time is defined as the measure of motion or of

the infinite in act, found this means of escape in his

God willed to create an eternal or a temporal world.

since it differs from it by only one unit (a unit added

has preceded the present one (that is to say, today).

Let us end this first lecture with a brief conclusion.

world could not be rationally demonstrated. Yet he

The second important questionable position de¬

tain Christian Masters for many centuries. As we shall

universe by attraction or insofar as it is an object of

intellect as immaterial and inorganic seems to belong

1 Cf. F. Van Steenberghen, Aristotle in the West, pp. 10-15.

metaphysics. This fact is quite striking in Avicenna.

separate and unique substance can become in some

tality, so widespread today, and especially in America.

2 See above, pp. 7-8.

tively of the differences between the intellect and the

3 “Utrum intellectivum radicatur in eadem animae substantia cum

Albert the Great had first defended the view of the

4 On the history of this problem see J. M. da Cruz Pontes, “lx? pro-

professes the most classical kind of Averroism. The

5 See above, pp. 7-8.

1'he third part, which considers the single intel¬